Magical, Mysterious Internets

Just a quick note to tell you guys how cool the internet is. As I mentioned to my colleague Amanda a few weeks ago, Twitter and social media have served to bridge the gap between me and some of the people I admire most (remember when Gerard McBurney responded to my blog post?? I fainted with fan-girl joy).

This week, I connected with Norman Lebrecht, Tim Page, and Andrew Patner on Facebook. I don’t talk to a ton of colleagues on Facebook, since I see it as a little more personal, but there was an interesting conversation going on and I wanted in. I sent Tim Page a little note, and got a lovely reply from him.

I’ve had word that some people I greatly admire are reading this blog. I’m not sure whether to be excited, nervous, flattered, or more paranoid about what I post. Probably a combination.  One nice perk is that the news of my blog meant more tickets to see interesting shows, including L’Histoire du Soldat, which I attended at the SF Conservatory of Music. More on that later.

Exciting Developments

I know you all read my blog eagerly, hanging on for tidbits about my life and new developments. Well, fret no more, dear readers (if you even exist – so far the only proof I have of anyone reading this thing are my colleagues who’ve commented, mostly who do so to take pity on me).

First of all, a few days ago I mentioned that I would like to meet Alexandra Amati-Camperi. As it so happens, my beloved friend and colleague, Margaret, has connections, and put me directly in touch with the Doctor herself. I will hopefully be meeting up with her in the next week or two. I am excited to meet this musicologist – after reading a number of her program notes, I think I will get along well with her.

Second, my friend Andrew, whose recent *helpful comments* made me wonder why, exactly, I am friends with him, redeemed himself. In his blog, DMV Classical, he used a comment of mine from Facebook (yay cross-platform meta-communication!) as a jumping-off point for a clever analysis of concert culture. He said some very nice things, and has re-gained my trust.

The final development is that I am having a wonderful weekend. Shout-out to Kenny and Olga!

Theme Song

This blog has a new theme song – the best rendition of the titular aria I’ve seen so far. It nicely combines good music, poking fun at the stuffiness of the institution/Ivory Tower, and making classical music available for everyone! Go Muppets!

Love Note, take 2

Dear Creamery,

It’s ok that you changed your menu without telling me, and removed my favorite salad. It might have been my fault that I wasn’t paying attention, but you can’t blame me for being slightly annoyed that you took away the heapingly huge $5 salad with the freshest, most delicious tomatoes I’ve ever had in my life.  It’s ok though, because the caprese sandwich is sweet and delicious.  I will still be a loyal fangirl.

Love,
Maura

Puzzling Sacrificium

Cecilia Bartoli’s new album, Sacrificium was released yesterday. For those unfamiliar with the CD and/or too lazy to click the link, the theme of the project is arias originally written for castrati, who were the rock-stars of the 17th and 18th century opera houses (seriously, women threw underwear and wanted to sleep with them. no, i’m not sure how that was supposed to work out).

Anyway, the publicity for the CD includes this great treasure hunt/puzzle/game online, where you click around to various blogs, collect the clues, use google wikipedia the Sacrificium website to find the answers, then enter them on the puzzle page. Once you have all nine answers correct (and entered the way the website expects you to type them), you unlock nine pieces of a picture, which, when fit together, plays a track from the new CD.

This is a great and creative idea – you’re capitalizing on the buzz of the release, promoting the blogs that participate, and getting the target audience to interact with the press material/key facts about the CD. I think the locations of the clues were kept secret or at least withheld that info even from the participating bloggers, so they got to play too. Everyone wins.

Except.

The initial implementation was a little sloppy, because getting it up and running required the participation of nine different bloggers, all who post at different times, some who have better tech skills than others, and some who pay better attention than others. There were links that pointed to the wrong place for several hours before they were fixed, clues that weren’t posted til after the end of the business day on the East Coast, etc, etc.

The solution to the puzzle was no surprise – we’ve seen the artwork already. The prize, a streaming track that plays when all the pieces fit together, was nice, but sort of trumped by the fact that NPR had the whole CD available for streaming for a week leading up to the release.

Despite that, there were people (myself included) who were proud/curious/crazy enough to push through, and when the dust settled, I’m sure that track got a lot of plays. It was a nifty project, and a cool piece of code.

But why stop there? If users are that committed to the puzzle, it would take just a second to capture our email addresses. Why not find a way to track and categorize the traffic driven to the CD’s site? Instead of giving the main URL to the bloggers who set up the clues, set up a re-direct that counts hits – be proactive about analyzing the effect of your project.

Let’s not even get started on the CD concept and art. These kinds of arias primarily appeal to a niche audience, and I think most of this crowd knows about castrati. They were rock stars, as mentioned above. It’s true that a lot of boys were needlessly operated on, but they were not the 17th and 18th century equivalents of plastic surgery patients. I’m not sure what classic male statues, balls intact, have to do with the subject. A more general audience will lose interest once the shock value wears off.

But who knows? Maybe the project was conceived since the niche audience is accustomed to hearing soprani sing castrati arias, and, um, a few others.

John Adams In The Flesh

Oh my gosh, you guys.

I just got home from a surreal experience. I attended the San Francisco Symphony concert, featuring Osmo Vänskä conducting John Adams’ Slonimsky’s Earbox, Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1 (Antti Siirala playing solo), and Dvořák’s Seventh Symphony.  That sounds like a lovely evening out, and it was. However, it was enhanced significantly by the fact that this was the first time SFS played Mr. Adams’ piece, so he attended the concert.  Through the generosity of some very nice people, I ended up sitting in Loge A (it’s a box) right in front of Mr. Adams.

That’s right. I met John Adams. It was great. I got a little twitter-pated when I first found out where we were going to sit. It turned out to be even better than I imagined. He was gracious and kind, interested in meeting me.  If he weren’t the Famous John Adams, you wouldn’t know him from any other music enthusiast of a certain age wearing a tweed jacket and a red tie. His wife had a pretty sparkly jacket, and everyone was in a great mood. Mr. Adams has a long-standing collaboration with SFS (he lives nearby) and you could tell that many people have known him for years.

Before I met Mr. Adams at intermission, I was very nervous. I didn’t know what he’d be like, where he would take the curtain call from (there was a rumor of shining a light on the box so he could acknowledge the audience. I was so glad he went down to the stage), or who was watching me fidget during the music. I was so relieved to meet him and find out how nice he was, so I could enjoy the second half of the concert.

Osmo Vänskä conducted Dvořák’s Seventh Symphony beautifully. He put the baton down for the second movement, and just used his hands. From this new angle (sitting in the most amazing box in Davies Symphony Hall), I could see how lovingly and beautifully his gestures caressed the music and drew it out from the ensemble. The whole evening drew to a wonderful close with the dramatic finale.

In other news, after reading Alexandra Amati-Camperi’s program notes for the Symphony and a few other arts organizations, I would really like to meet this lady. She teaches right around the corner from my house.

A Conversation

I wanted to write a post about Anne Midgette’s recent article about “alt-classical.”  I was asking a friend for his opinion and it sparked this terrific conversation that I’ve excerpted here.

Joe: seems weird to me that the entire genre of classical music is being portrayed as this sort of backwards, insecure entity
it seems to me that the person who wrote it comes from the point of view of an outsider
me: yeah except she doesn’t
i mean she knows classical music pretty well
Joe: I’ve learned from the school that musical taste is extremely personal
and if there are overall “musical trends”
it’s more a result of music that either appeals to everybody by being kind of soul-less
or music that captures the thinking of a particular time period
to me, the 21st century is tech-obsessed, and preoccupied with nostalgia
and particularly reworking the classics
so these musical trends don’t surprise me at all. They’re just a product of the times
if we suddenly have a worldwide blackout and can’t use electricity anymore, expect acoustic instruments to make a comeback
or if we go to war with Japan, expect to hear less pentatonic patterns in american music
I’ve always thought that real music was far too personal for mass distribution
the mass-produced stuff is what I’m interested in, though
how does a piece of music achieve maximum palatability?
(Popularity?)
me: i have no idea
Joe: well, you can add synthesizers

Joe: What these guys are doing is nothing new to me
because before the alt-classical folks were doing it
me: right but that’s what i’m saying with this article
Joe: it was the heavy metal guitarists quoting debussy
me: this article is taking the spin that these people are doing something new and great
Joe: it’s not new
me: but 1. none of these artists are new
they’ve been around
Joe: though to some it may be great
me: 2. other musicians are breaking down barriers
it’s not a specifically classical music thing
and 3. there’s no angle on this article that makes me care
none of the content or position is interesting
Joe: I agree on all 3. You know, I’ve always found it weird that people don’t, you know, make music.
me: it’s like a report
Joe: some people are “not musical”
Joe: which doesn’t compute for me – I compose music all the time, like in the shower
and yet sometimes these same people are the most dedicated music fans

{later}

Joe: “the attitude that we take towards categorization and idolizing the people at the top
makes people doubt their own musical voice”
this is true
it is necessary for the propagation of art, however
when we say we like the work another has composed, we acknowledge the skill needed to create a sound that is UNIVERSALLY pleasant
creating mass art is (not to be overly cynical) playing to a market
creating something someone wants to hear
if you want to liken it to marketing, that’s not entirely wrong
me: i don’t know about that though
there is a certain amount of training that comes with appreciating music
Joe: and no, without the training to know how to separate the good notes from the clunkers
without that training, people feel alienated

BUT People have not been deterred from creating their own personal style of music, and I think this article is a glowing testament to that.
categorization only applies to musical CULTURE, not the music itself
because with rare exceptions, all music is based upon the same fundamental building blocks of harmony, timbre, rhythm, etc
and it’s only within the communities of music lovers that the categories appear
so… make sure in your argument that you’re talking about the Community of classical musicians, not the classical genre itself
I think there is definitely insecurity in the classical world
but it’s coming not from the musicians, but from the marketing folks

me: well not even marketing
from the attitude that everyone takes
Joe: they don’t know how to market classical music anymore, how to sell it
me: from the administration
Joe: right, the business side
me: right well the old way of selling it was easy
you knew what to do
Joe: associate classical music with prestige?
me: yep and validate people who value prestige, class, education
‘culture is good for you’
Joe: right, that won’t work as much now, you’re absolutely right
me: heh it hasn’t worked for YEARS, beyond a certain demographic
Joe: so what’s the alternative?
me: that’s what we’re trying to figure out
the entire industry
and that’s why i’m doing this

Joe: well, these alt-musicians aren’t really helping, or hurting
that’s a good approach
me: oh i think they’re helping
because that’s what our generation seeks – the emotional high
Joe: emotional high… ‘cept, club music does that too
me: right so there has to be more to it than that
still working on that
also you gotta maintain the class element to keep the old folks engaged and coming. the people to whom that appeals are still around.

Joe: I listen to classical music when I’m working
it’s the only music I can work too, actually
it’s math music, in a lot of ways
restores order in the universe
me: awesome
hey i am falling asleep here
let’s continue this convo soon
Joe: ok, definitely. Good night!
me: bye

Life’s a Twitch, Addendum

My colleague over at Life’s a Pitch, Amanda the Glamazon, recently asked me a few questions about Twitter, and today posted my responses, along with several other publicists’.  Part 2 of the project was from the journalists’ perspective. I was flattered to be included in such impressive company.

Amanda’s experience with Twitter, admittedly an experiment, is the opposite of mine. I was very cautious in my initial exploration of Twitter, fearful of sounding too pushing, worried that people wouldn’t be interested in talking to me if I was too focused on results. I had no idea what “results” would even look like, and I wanted to see what the fuss was about, by engaging with other users.

Twitter has proved useful, personally and professionally, and I am happy to be part of this loose community. The little bits of time I invest have paid off in a big way. I guess that proves that others are getting as much out of this as I am, which is a huge relief. I am constantly self-critical of my content and interactions, worried that I will fall into a trap that I can’t quite articulate, but roughly looks something like “those annoying people that I block.”

When I first started my job at New Century, I had no PR background. I learned a lot by reading. I read blog posts and articles and email listserves about industry-best practices, writers’ pet peeves, and innovation in both PR and classical music administration. As a result, I set pretty high standards for, and am incredibly critical of, myself in my work and relationships. I am overly cautious about being honest, providing quality and well-edited content (thank you Lindsay, for all those grammar lessons), respectfully following up (i.e. no badgering), and generally emulating this ideal I created in my head about what the dream publicist looks like. This same ideal applies to my use of Twitter, although I have more concrete examples to emulate, including some users who have a one-two punch of excellent content and interaction (and are awesome people *ahem* @IrishArtsCenter).

It’s amazing to see how Twitter has grown and changed over the few months I have used it, and how my relationships, workflow, and quality of life have changed. I couldn’t have imagined where I would be today, and I am excited to see how the tool, my relationships, and my life will continue to evolve.

Cows

I promised y’all a post on cows. One of my English professors from college, the Emmy-winning Michael Olmert, wrote a book about how people didn’t really live in their houses, back when Maryland (my home state – “the battle queen of yore” according to our state song) and Virginia were all farmland.  It’s called Kitchens, Smokehouses and Privies: Outbuildings and the Architecture of Daily Life in the Eighteenth-Century Mid-Atlantic, and it’s really fascinating.

Admittedly, the title is not very sexy. But I’m fascinated by the way that Olmert can look at the architecture of these outbuildings and figure out how these people lived (and how they took care of their cows). I visited him this afternoon, and picked up a copy. It has an appendix on octagons and their significance in architecture. Most modern buildings are primarily functional or reflect a specific artistic expression, so I was really interested by the historical culture that associated a broader significance to particular symbols. #historygeek

more on balance

Before I get started, a huge thank you to Andrew Lindemann, whose comments are insightful and lovely and has a great sense of humor and great perspective.  I’m big on warm-fuzzies and spreading the love.

To follow up on Andrew’s points, I acknowledge that I made a mistake in conflating artist examples of imbalance with greater societal imbalances. I have this problem where various things get all mashed up in my head and when I try to talk they get all twisted and come out being related except I can’t explain why. Hey, voices in my head, what’s up with that?

To refresh your memory, and so I don’t have to keep clicking between different tags while I write this, the previous post discussed the following as examples of artistic imbalances:

• Peter Gelb’s goals in breathing life into the Met, as evidenced by the new production of Tosca
• Wagner’s music and extremism
• Arnold Schoenberg’s private concerts
• Milton Babbit’s article “Who Cares If You Listen?”

I am leaving out the racial and gender imbalances for now, given the above comments.

Some of the discussion around Project Audience (twitter hashtag #praud) today gave me some of the catalyst to expand on some of my points from the other day.   @Chris_Ashworth made a popular comment: “Let’s reinvent the ticket. It’s not a transaction, it’s an artifact of a relationship.” @artfulmanager (Andrew Taylor) also pointed out that “Sales are byproducts, not goals.”

The above examples of artistic imbalances demonstrate the pursuit of one concern (call it a metric, artifact, byproduct, whatever), like increased ticket sales, to the detriment of other major concerns (call them factors, stakeholders, etc) in the relationship between the audience and performer. Wagner solved this problem by steamrolling everyone and forcing them to appreciate what he had to offer. Schoenberg hid from criticism by hosting his private concerts. Babbitt yelled at the critics from his ivory tower. Gelb cannot afford to do any of these things.

Art does not exist in a vacuum. Relationships are valuable, and must be maintained. There is a way to accomplish the various goals (increased ticket sales and refreshed perspective on a beloved work like Tosca, appreciation for maverick-y art, the room to compose as one pleases) that Gelb, Wagner, Schoenberg, and Babbitt pursue(d) without losing perspective. Call me an idealist or a perfectionist. I am both of those. I just worry that the backlash/booing of the Met’s productions will undermine the position of the institution. I hope they prove me wrong.

OK that’s it. No more beating this subject to death. Next time I’m going to talk about cows. (You think I’m joking. Just wait.)