Hockey Lessons

I went to the San Jose Sharks game last Saturday night. I was impressed by the intense loyalty of the fans – lowest price ticket is $50, over 50% of fans were wearing license team apparel, and the coordination and attention the fans paid to cheers, including embarrassing arm-waving motions, was dramatic. Within five minutes of arrival, there was choreographed chomping en masse.

One lesson the hockey arena (any sports, really) can teach the arts is that alcohol is a great motivator. My boss and I agreed after reading this article that the savior of classical music will be booze. The author claims that the format for presenting performing arts will change. Clearly the answer is alcohol, the universal social lubricant!

“Death” of Classical Music?

Mark Swed wrote an engaging, thought-provoking piece last week in the LA Times about the future of classical music. The subtitle says it all: “Memo to doomsayers: Not only is classical thriving, but the debuts of Disney Hall and Golijov’s ‘San Marco’ also helped give it a new energy,” and the concluding paragraph makes a powerful statement:

Not I, nor anyone else, can tell you where we are headed, and don’t believe anyone who flaunts surveys. Audiences may be diminishing in rural America, but in the last 10 years, there was more music made by more people and delivered in more accessible ways to more places and at higher quality than ever before. We should only be so resourceful when it comes to feeding the world’s population or saving the planet.

Here, Mark Swed is directly speaking to the fears that research like the National Endowment for the Arts’ audience engagement survey raises.

What Mark is talking about, and what the survey demonstrates, is that the traditional model for arts engagement is no longer working – we’ve known this for a while. There is only a limited sub-set of the population that will subscribe to an orchestral season each year, there is an increasing emphasis on making short-term decisions, and an atmosphere that focuses on reinforcing the class, status, or education of the audience no longer appeals to the modern audience. Favoring subscribers heavily over single ticket buyers is a dated business model.

My own company saw the truth of the last-minute decision making process in November, when we had audiences knocking down our doors for the concert right before Thanksgiving. Despite the fact that the Berlin Philharmonic performed at Davies Symphony Hall that weekend, we still drew large, engaged audiences. A profile of the music director two days before, combined with a positive review, generated record box office call volume, and made for a very successful weekend.

Classical music won’t die – my generation won’t let it. There are too many of us who care too much to let that happen. There will be a lot of changes – Mark Swed’s examples and the day to day business experience illustrate that quite plainly. The history of music is about taking risks that pay off, and I look forward to being a part of the process.

Audience engagement is a love affair

I have had the worst writer’s block. I made a mistake in trying to review performances and/or projects by my colleagues, and I didn’t listen to Bambi’s mother.

Since we last spoke, I have seen L’Histoire du Soldat at the SF Conservatory of Music, which was a partnership with the American Conservatory Theatre, Bruckner 8 at the University of California – Berkeley’s Hertz Hall, a jazz show at the Diablo Valley College (best amateur band in the Bay Area, featuring Dave Eschelman), and sang in several masses, including a midnight mass for Christmas.

Of these, only the masses had an opportunity for the audience to directly participate in the music. The audiences (or, in this case, congregation) participated to a limited extent. When they knew the music well, many people sang along (Christmas carols especially). If the music was new, or presented in a context that they didn’t expect, you could see the doubt on their faces.

The jazz band show, which didn’t exactly offer the opportunity to participate in the music-making, had the most engaged audience of any of these events. The communication between the stage and the audience was relaxed, informal. The audience laughed at the jokes on stage, both spoken and musical, and responded warmly if traditionally (this audience knew this wasn’t a sporting event – only applause). The featured composer/performer/conductor, Dave Eschelman, is a Bay Area legend – kids grow up playing his music in middle and high school.

Bruckner 8 was the most poorly attended performance of the bunch. There was little advertising for the performance, as I believe the music department programs are presented separately from Cal Performances. This was the shortest performance, with no intermission. I kind of liked the relaxed format, with general admission (choose your own seat), short program, and social atmosphere afforded by the fact that most of the audience attended to support someone who was performing. Talk about an engaged audience.

L’Histoire du Soldat was the most professional, polished experience. The recital hall at the conservatory is the most modern of any of the venues. The audience was older, and the program notes were the most detailed. The instrumentalists were super tight – the bassoonist didn’t miss a note. The audience was the most reserved of the group, and there was an atmosphere of intellectualism.

I would say the Diablo Valley College jazz band show was the most enjoyable of the group. The joy with which the musicians performed, to which the audience responded in kind, made for a positive, joyful experience. The audience was engaged throughout the performance, there was direct communication between the audience and performers, and everyone obviously cared about the performance. Music should be about passion, joy, and love.

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

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.