June 2009 Archives
Public Enemies happens to incorporate all my favorite things: The Great Depression, Johnny Depp, Christian Bale, Billy Crudup, Marion Cotillard, and Elliot Goldenthal(!), who wrote the score. Now, I don't expect The Great Depression, Elliot Goldenthal, or even Billy Crudup to be featured on the ads, but Christian Bale? And Marion Cotilard, Academy Award-winner? The posters in New York are JUST Johnny Depp: Johnny Depp's upper body, and the words "Johnny Depp" over the words "Public Enemy", I believe with the July 1 release date somewhere in smaller print. I have nothing more to say on this exact subject, except I think it's an interesting choice: does Johnny Depp really carry that much more star-power than both the rest of the cast and, essentially, everything else about the movie? And typing of movies, I've been working with a gaggle of very talented publicists on an upcoming film called (UNTITLED), for which my client David Lang wrote the score. There were two screenings of the movie in the city, and when I sent the Grand High Publicist my press list, I included David's name on the lists for both nights. I just figured he'd want to see it on a big screen, and I always like hanging out with David. In response to my list, I was told very nicely, "No problem - but, I don't think it's a good idea for David to attend the press screenings. It makes journalists uncomfortable when they are sitting in a film with someone affiliated with it."
Fascinating! It never occurred to me that writers wouldn't want to be watching something alongside "someone affiliated with it", because with the exception of those reviewing CDs, the journalists I work with are always in the same room with the artists they are reviewing; the soloists are on stage, and the composers are usually in the audience, often sitting in the same section of the orchestra as the critics. This led me to wonder what, if any, the psychological differences are between film critics, who are watching flat things on screens in dark rooms, and live performing arts critics who are reviewing artists in the flesh. Are performing arts critics, then, kinder? More compassionate? More affected by the reactions of those seated around them? If they hate a piece and then see the composer at intermission, does it soften them?
Thinking about it, I've never read a film review that included audience reactions, and yet music, dance and theater reviews incorporate the audience all the time. I remember a Bernard Holland Times review of the Chiara String Quartet from a few years back that was bascially all about the Quartet's interaction with and effect on the audience:
The excellent young Chiara String Quartet played at Rose Live Music in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, on Friday, seated in the center of what must once have been a ground-floor railroad flat. To the players right was an outdoor garden of Friday-night drinkers; to their left a lively bar scene opening onto the sidewalk.Did any film critic note that I blurted out laughing when Remy the Rat was asked if he was a chef in Ratatouille? When I was hysterically sobbing at the end of Far from Home: The Adventures of Yellow Dog ((not my finest moment))? When my friends and I sat in the dark theater for a full 20 minutes after Memento ended? No, because I don't think film critics see movies with the rest of us. They get "screeners" in the mail (I keep putting "screeners" in "air quotes" in my e mails to the movie publicists, like allegedly that's what they're called), or they go to screenings with other critics. So that's another interesting difference: performing arts critics are reviewing what I saw or could have potentially seen, in the same atmosphere I saw it, while film critics are seeing movies sans Junior Mints and plebeians. Maybe that movie a critic ripped apart would have been better with Sno-Caps and strangers laughing. Maybe it would have been worse.
The space, curtained off but still the only thoroughfare for waiters and patrons on the move, was perhaps the size of two living rooms. I counted eight tables and about 30 people, most of whom were Friday-night drinkers as well. Clinking glasses and distant good cheer from the bar created a steady background. Maybe this is what chamber music means. At any rate, I was thoroughly enchanted.
The dichotomy of screenings vs. screeners is interesting to me as well. If a critic can't attend a screening, the studio sends out a screener, so are film critics supposed to review the full-screen experience on their own small screen? (UNTITLED) doesn't have special effects, so the screener/screening issue isn't as relevant here, but I wonder if screeners were sent out for Star Trek? For Transformers 2? It would seem unfair to have a review of Transformers 2 by a critic who was sitting on his couch.
I wonder when music critics will start reviewing concerts streaming live from their computers. The Met HD broadcasts are already reviewed like "real" productions in non-New York markets, so it's only a matter of time. And if/when live performing arts do start getting reviewed on movie/TV/computer screens, how will the critics' treatment of the art forms change when there's no risk of running into the composer in the bathroom at intermission or the soprano at Fiorello's after the performance?
Update, July 1: Even though Jude Law is also in it, the upcoming movie 'Holmes' also appears to be going the one-man-promo route.

Juliana Farha is the Founder and Managing Director of Dilettante Music, the online classical music hub based in London, England. She worked at CBC Radio and as a magazine editor in Toronto before leaving journalism to work for her family business in the musical instruments sector where she was responsible for two innovative, award-winning products.After obtaining her Masters Degree in Arts Administration and Cultural Policy at Goldsmiths College, University of London, Juliana became convinced that the Internet and especially social media were ideal tools to support classical music and musicians, and to grow the audience for the genre. Dilettante is the embodiment of those ideas.
An American ex-pat and digital music junky, Chris is an Arts Manager with more than 10 years' experience in the classical music sector. Arriving in London by way of the Seattle Symphony, Carnegie Hall and a MBA at Edinburgh University, Chris establishes relationships with arts organizations, record labels and business partners and manages business development for Dilettante. He lives in South London with his wife, the mezzo-soprano, Meg Bragle. "Dilettante". Explain the name for us. Also, the tagline: "Lead the Classical Music Uprising". Whom are we to rise up against?
JULIANA: My reasons for naming the site Dilettante are somewhat personal. I grew up at a time when it became a commonly-held view that being a 'generalist' with a liberal arts education was a waste of time. Instead, to become productive in the new economy, we had to undertake increasingly specialised training for increasingly specialised work.
I disagree profoundly with that view, and I believe that teaching people to think critically and encouraging their curiosity remains intrinsically valuable. I accept that this might produce a lot of 'dilettantes' - which I define as people driven by a broad intellectual and emotional engagement. In that sense, there's nothing more serious to me than a dilettante, which is how I would describe myself.
More specifically, the classical music world can be daunting because of its history, the depth of the repertoire and the complexity of the music. A certain snobbishness results from that and can stifle the fledgling efforts of new listeners, and the enthusiasm of non-professional players. [I once scandalised a boyfriend by telling him that Dvorak was one of my favourite composers. He subsequently gave me a Beethoven box set, which I read as an aesthetic 'correction'...and things went downhill from there!]
The name Dilettante is a signal that we are finding ways to invite people into what could be a very big tent if they can find the space to listen
'Lead the Classical Uprising' isn't aimed at a person, or group of people per se. It's a challenge to the common claim that classical music is dying.
Who writes your House Blog? Can any member have a Member Blog?
JULIANA: I write the house blog, and the 'musical uprisings'. (This started by accident when we launched a 'user generated' website which - at the beginning - had no users to generate content.) Yes, any member can have a member blog.
I noticed Nonesuch Records has a Member Blog. Nonesuch also has its own blog, though, off its own website. Similarly, I see my e-friend The Omniscient Mussel has a member blog that links to her personal blog off-site. Do you care if the blog posts are the same on Dilettante and the Nonesuch/Omniscient Mussel blogs, or are you ideally looking for unique content?
JULIANA: The Dilettante site is a hub which brings together music, editorial content, ideas and people. We are not especially concerned about unique content, and we would certainly not prioritise that at the expense of aggregating the most interesting and dynamic classical music content on the web. For instance, The Omniscient Mussel has developed a distinctive voice and a loyal following so creating space for her on Dilettante can only enhance our site.
Back to Nonesuch for a moment: Are you encouraging record labels without their own blogs to have Dilettante Member Blogs? How do you envision record label blogs on Dilettante actually selling records?
CHRIS: We encourage record labels to do lots of things on the site - not just creating or importing their own blogs, but setting up profiles and connecting with the Dilettante community. Nonesuch uses Dilettante in a clever way, by keeping members up-to-date about events and information related to their artists, and not just promoting upcoming releases. All of these elements contribute to selling records through the site. More generally, labels are starting to leverage social media as a vehicle for promoting their recordings and Dilettante is one outlet where they can communicate with a targeted audience in an honest and creative way.
Why ask new members to select their "relationship with music", that is, "serious listener", "novice listener", etc.? If I start off as a novice and become more serious because of Dilettante, can I change my profile?
JULIANA: First, you can always change your profile type. The distinctions among musician types is primarily intended for practical reasons - for instance, if someone were looking for a trio in London to play at their wedding, they could use those criteria to hone their search.
As for listener types, this was originally conceived as a way of signaling that 'novice listeners' were welcome on the site. No one has raised it with us before, but if users tell us it's not a useful or meaningful way of describing themselves, we'd certainly change it.
I must admit, I'm skeptical of niche social networking sites. I, like Anne Midgette, feel like there's a limit to existing classical music fans, and that the point of online networking is to find people who don't yet know they're fans. What do you think are the benefits of having a classically-focused site? Also, as Anne points out in her post, a few classical networking sites have started and not really taken off: she cites Classical Lounge, Artist Nation, Classical Music Now, and Classical Connection. What makes the new version of Dilettante stand out?
JULIANA: First, it's important to clarify that Dilettante is a hub (or portal as they used to say) and the social network was always intended to be an element of what we offer, but certainly not the whole thing. Also, it's not clear to us that Facebook or any other social utility is actually making 'fans' of people who weren't already interested.
Our goal is to enable discovery of music and musicians, and to that end we believe we need to provide listeners with compelling reasons to visit Dilettante, whether it's to find a range of 'expert' opinions of the best performance of Transfigured Night, or to find the best quality recording at the best price. New listeners might want advice on the Beethoven concerti but find it intimidating to walk into a record shop and ask (if there is a record shop at all!). While they're on Dilettante, they might discover an mp3 by a trio that just graduated from Curtis, and become a fan. Ordinary social networks don't offer this sort of 360-degree experience, and it's reflected in our numbers. We're now seeing more than 15,000 unique visitors per month from more than 105 countries.
CHRIS: Even so, we believe that niche social networks are the next step in the evolution of online social networking. The ability to connect in a meaningful way with people who share a particular interest or passion creates an important link and like social networks in real life, online networks are situationally relevant - there's no "one size fits all" for every interest and social group people have.
I see you've used Facebook's "Wall" platform and moniker. Are you at all concerned that classical folks who are not familiar with Facebook will be confused by this? Which brings me to the broader question of, how easy is Dilettante to use if someone is not so tech-savvy?
JULIANA: Quite the opposite, actually. On the first version of the site we used 'small talk' to designate a public message (the call to action was 'talk to me'). Many users found this confusing because Facebook's 'wall' had become widely accepted as a standard term for this type of message in the social networking environment.
Regarding less tech-savvy users, we have done usability tests on the new site and addressed areas that we felt were unclear. We plan to do another, more involved set of tests in the next couple of months or so, and this will undoubtedly uncover more questions about whether the user journey is as intuitive as it could be.
There are two important points here, though:
a) the Members area of the Dilettante site is a social network in the accepted sense, and social networking functionality has become very sophisticated very quickly. For that reason, it would not have made sense to work to the least tech-savvy user. The challenge was (and remains) to make complex functionality as intuitive as possible.
b) the Dilettante Music and Events areas are designed to be used by anyone, whether or not they're a member of the Dilettante community (or any other social network for that matter). The Music section functions like any other library-style search where you can use keywords to find information about composers and works, read reviews and discussions, and then click through to buy music or tickets. These areas are complex because of how they aggregate information, but they are not difficult to use.
How does Dilettante interact with actual musical activity? Are there structures to help musicians find gigs, or to find other musicians for a string quartet, for example? Is there a place where instruments are bought and sold, or where teachers in a certain area can be found? Or are the networking elements of Dilettante purely social?
CHRIS: Users have many tools to search for and interact with musical activity. First, they can use the events calendar to upload their recitals, masterclasses, performances, hold auditions and anything else they can think of. Members can post discussions on forums, and use their own blogs - which appear on the members' homepage - to find musicians.
Members' mp3s appear in our library on the page that describes the work they're performing and on Dilettante Radio, so musicians can be found through the music itself, and not just through their member profiles. Also, our members search is very precise and specifically designed to find a user by instrument/skill/location etc, not just a specific person. For instance, you can look for an accompanist in Philadelphia, or a teacher in Houston...
You've just announced a Digital Composer-in-Residence competition wherein one of the prizes is a year-long "virtual residency". What does a virtual residency entail? Is this the first of its kind? Who owns the rights to any work created by that composer during that period?
CHRIS: A virtual residency offers the winning composer a digital space in which to promote their work, facilitate discussions, post podcasts and conduct online master classes, all to an established international audience. We'll be working with the winner to develop a series of activities on the site, which will provide information about what they're working on, the process involved, and their thoughts on new music. To my knowledge it is the first of its kind.
Dilettante is commissioning the winning composer to write a new piece for chamber ensemble over the course of the residency. They will own the rights to that work.
As with the YouTube Symphony, I continue to wonder why great web initiatives need to be validated by "real" live performances. Why will the three composer finalists have their works performed at London's Wilton's Music Hall, and not in a purely online setting?
BOTH: Glad you think it's a great web initiative - we do too! But the Digital Composer-in Residence project was never intended to be a web-only initiative. It reflects the fact that the real world doesn't exist in a parallel universe to the virtual one. For most musicians who are active online, those worlds work together and complement each other - our project does the same. [Besides, we want to have a party and we really love Wilton's!]
Still, a key aspect is that our 'niche' community is built on a common activity and interest, and we are leveraging all aspects of that community to make this project happen, from soliciting entries to attracting judges and performers, and then using our web presence as a viable way for the winning composer to develop their own profile.
In fact, the project progresses work we did last summer on Blank Canvas, our classical club night in East London. The production of Blank Canvas was documented on the site, members were invited to attend at discounted ticket rates, and we produced a high-quality webcast of the event which we posted on Dilettante and YouTube. That way, we supported live performance in a non-traditional venue and we also brought the sites and sounds of London's contemporary classical scene to users elsewhere.
Obviously, a network of any kind is dependent on the quality and/or quantity of its members. Is Dilettante looking for a select group of very active members, or is this a the-more-the-merrier situation? And in either case, how are you getting the word out about this site, and what have been the most successful ways you've recruited new members thus far?
CHRIS: Dilettante already has a group of super-users and this is likely to remain the case over time. Nonetheless, we currently attract members and visitors from more than 105 countries, and these run the gamut from orchestras like the London Phil to organisations like the New England Conservatory and small record labels, to individual listeners and musicians.
For us, then, if Dilettante is to continue to function as a hub it needs to grow in all of these directions - so the more-the-merrier!
Unfortunately, Ashanti was not allowed to simply "park and bark", as they say, and instead was required to dance and act as well. And that, my friends, was an unmitigated disaster. I think she may have actually been looking at her feet during a few of the big dance numbers. But Ashanti is famous, so there she stands in a role that presumably requires a triple threat: someone who can sing, dance and act equally well.
The other celebrity draw in this production of The Wiz was comedian Orlando Jones, again, unfortunately made to do things on stage other than be funny. The third celebrity of the evening - albeit more of a Broadway celebrity than a celebrity-celebrity - was LaChanze. In the three musicals I've seen her in, she's only really sung (and technically acted, though I've never been especially impressed), and yet there her name is in the program with an "and" credit and a fatter font.
Joshua Henry, James Monroe Iglehart and Christian Dante White - you've heard of them, right? Oh...you haven't? Really? Are you sure? But they can dance! They can sing! They can act! Incredibly well, actually, and in equal distributions. These were the three men who played the Tinman, the Lion and the Scarecrow, respectively, and they should be Matt Damon, George Clooney, and Brad Pitt as far as I'm concerned. Well not precisely, but you see what I mean: the three most all-around excellent cast members were the least famous of the leads.
So as I boogied out of The Wiz tonight in my vintage jumpsuit and platform gold lamé sandals I wondered: does being good at just one thing make it easier to be famous? Of course there are exceptions, but if you think about it, how many celebrity-celebrities are really triple threats? Beyoncé is certainly one. Little Zac Efron is too if we're being lenient in the acting category. Madonna, for sure. Can we still count Michael Jackson (acting c.f. The Wiz and oh yes, the incomparable Captain EO)? We'll see how the whole crew does in the new Nine movie. But you hear in theater that you have to be a "triple threat" all the time, but does that celebrity-celebrities make? Or even niche celebrities make? Yo-Yo Ma isn't expected to tap, and Savion Glover isn't expected to play the cello. Or to sing. Or to act. Aren't we frankly surprised when celebrities can do anything but the one thing they are famous for doing?
Recently, my clients David and Hilary weighed in on Tweeting, etc. during concerts. Life's a Pitch devotees may also remember the report of the Patti LuPone incident from this winter, during which Santa Evita stopped singing 'Rose's Turn' in Gypsy to yell at an audience member while my friend Maureen and I sat horrified in the left orchestra. Well, according to The New York Times' arts blog (via the Las Vegas Sun) the Rainbow of Argentina has has done it again:
Broadway star Patti LuPone hadn't even finished lowering her arms in the iconic introduction to the song "Don't Cry For Me, Argentina," when she waved to her 10-man orchestra to stop the music. LuPone was already at the lip of the stage, chewing out some doofus in the third row, who was brave and foolish enough to be caught using an electronic gizmo during her show at the Orleans showroom.
"What were you doing?" LuPone demanded of her captive. "I promise not to be mad at you. Just tell me, what were you doing -- videoing? Taking photos? Texting? I really want to know."
...Sitting near me in the capacity crowd was freelance journalist and blogger Steve Friess, who was itching to post about the eruption to his Twitter feed. "I want to text right now so bad it's killing me!" he whispered, laughing. Friess quickly jammed out a blog post and a tweet, apparently while waiting for the valet to retrieve his car. [Las Vegas Sun]
"I don't care what the bourgeoisie say; I'm not in business for them, but to give all my descamisados a magical moment or two!"
Of course the internet is a magical place, and the great irony is that audio from her Gypsy spasm has been listened to 200,000+ times on YouTube.
Update from my friend Jeff, 6/23!! LuPone, from whom I'm still awaiting monetary reimbursement for the Gypsy ticket to the performance she ruined, has responded to the New York Times. It seems she's both read the recent Wall Street Journal article on the topic and doesn't know who Will Swenson is. Yes, photos/texting/Tweeting/eating during performances are a problem, but where are the ushers? The house managers? There are systems in place to police these things that don't ruin performances for the rest of us.
Here's an e mail that came into IMG from one of The King's Singers' 2010 presenters:
We are still looking for the following materials and would greatly appreciate them or the appropriate forms as soon as possible. The materials we are looking for are as follows. CDs, DVDs, TV and Radio spots, handbills, posters, the name of any opening act(s), and a play list if that is known at this time.This e mail was forwarded to me, and I wrote back that I would put CDs and DVDs in the mail, and could design a flyer for them to print locally if necessary. The woman from the marketing department responded:
We are just looking for what was in the original e-mail that Brett sent you. Just incase you didn't see it, were looking for CDs, DVDs, TV and Radio spots, handbills, posters, the name of any opening act(s), and a play list if it is known at this time.Oh I saw it, sister. But it's The King's Singers; they don't have an OPENING ACT. Or a "play list". And are you really going to buy TV ad time? Because if you are, I will help you with a TV spot, but I'm not going to produce and send spots that have no chance of seeing the light of the TV screen. I just wish presenters would think about some kind of marketing plan before sending these e mails to management. "We'd love 50 posters to hang around campus." "Do you have radio spots for our local classical station?"
Help me, help you, help my artists.
Two of my favorites are Pomodoro and Covo, and my friend Joe has come to both with me. At Pomodoro, they make fun of me for asking for more Parmesan after I've eaten down to the portion of the rigatoni that's not under a cheese blanket, and at Covo, they know I'll order one of three things every time and that I'll want to sit outside no matter how cold it is. One night, Joe and I went to another restaurant down the road from my apartment called Largo for drinks. "Do they know you here, too?" he asked. "No!" I snapped, "I'm at the deli next door every day and they're owned by the same people, but I've actually only been here two or three times." So we get our drinks, drink them and two more, and soon enough the bartendress is vacuuming and closing out the register. We're the only people left and we're wondering why they haven't asked us to pay. "Hi there - can we pay?" I ask. "Oh...well, that guy over there is my manager, and he says you're next door all the time, so the drinks are on him." Of course Joe looks at me incredulously and says, you get free drinks at the place you've "only been a few times"?
A couple months back, Elizabeth Maupin at the Orlando Sentinel posted the following on the newspaper's blog:
"Including one or two that are tried all the time in Orlando (New York isn't always the forefront of things)". I've noticed a few commenters on this blog from Florida, coincidentally (or not) enough, have said they've tried what I've posted about. Margo from the Bach Festival Florida is a good example. She's commented a few times, one time to that same facial post about box offices being open during and after performances:There's a New York writer named Amanda Ameer who finds marketing ideas everywhere. This time around, it was at her friendly neighborhood spa, which gave a discount because she came through the recommendation of a friend and another discount for scheduling a facial two months in advance.
Good marketing ideas can come from anywhere, Ameer points out, and she has some others -- including one or two that are tried all the time in Orlando (New York isn't always the forefront of things) and a bunch that are not. Check out her column for some ideas that might be very good for you.
This season we introduced a Flex Ticket Package for the first time and during the first few performances of the Season we left the Box Office open through intermission and after the performance, encouraging patrons to upgrade their single ticket to an entire flex package, or even to a Series package. We didn't sell out our Season doing it, but we certainly sold more tickets that way than we thought. I would say overall it was really successful. However, by the time we were a few performances in to each series in the season, we weren't selling enough to make it worth the money in staff time. So, I would say do it at the beginning of the Season and evaluate from there.A week or so after Elizabeth's post and Margo's comment, my friend Justin sent me a link to this NPR story about the New World Symphony, also in Florida:
If you're in Miami Beach with 20 minutes to spare, the New World Symphony has a proposal: a mini-concert for $2.50.Howard Herring, the symphony's president, tells NPR's Melissa Block it is an attempt to win a new audience.
The program includes a Mozart Clarinet Quintet, followed by two works -- Handel Passacaglia arranged by Halverson and the Bartok Contrast for clarinet, violin and piano -- and a Brahms Clarinet Quintet.
Is Florida just a hot bed of excellent classical music marketing ideas? Possibly. Or, in general, are presenters in smaller cities simply better at marketing than those in big cities like New York? It makes sense; presenters in more tight-knit communities know their patrons and local business owners, often personally. Of course the manager at Largo would cover my drinks; I buy four Caesar salads a week from him. Similarly, if I were promoting a concert in my neighborhood, I'm sure Largo would hang up posters, put postcards in the take-out bags, and host the opening night party. The manager at Covo has been booking bands and jazz ensembles from City College, which is a few blocks up, to play at the restaurant bar every Friday and Saturday night. He gives them a nice place to perform, their friends come to the restaurant to see them, hopefully everyone comes back for dinner one night. This is how neighborhoods work, but do New York City presenters think of New York as one giant neighborhood, or do they strive to build organic relationships with leaders and groups in different communities?
I was surprised in the elevator one night when my neighbor Kenny told me he had just come from a play. "You went to a play," I teased. "Seriously?" The play was The Jim Jones Project, and, as the title would seem to dictate, featured the rapper Jim Jones. I asked Kenny how he had heard about it, and he said a friend told him and there had been TV and radio spots. So I, who read Playbill.com obsessively, had heard nothing about this particular Off-Broadway show, and Kenny, ESPN SportsCenter devotee, knew all about it and bought tickets. Though we live three feet apart, we are not - according to the marketers of that show - the same community.
Of course, Schweppes, Apple and Club Monacco have been marketing to me for years without having a clue where I live, who I hang out with, or what I like to do. But can arts organizations afford - time or money-wise - to throw ads against walls and see what sticks? Or should they work toward organic presences in communities within larger location communities? LA seems to have created a community around their orchestra, as have Cleveland and Phoenix. Those are big cites, by any definition, so have they created these communities from scratch, as it were, or did they form a unique orchestral community from many existing communities?
An aside: is it possible for a presenter to "know" a community too well? That is, they think they know exactly what their community wants to see, and consequently refuse to book anything new? Or their press department keeps going back to the same media outlets because it's easier to pitch to people you already know, but other opportunities may be out there?
So I get a lot of Google Alerts, which is annoying until I remember that receiving Google Alerts means I'm doing my job. But sometimes they're just not even close to being about my clients. Here are the two that popped up this morning:
Google News Alert for: "Michael Gordon"
Bytes bus launched
The Western Weekender - Penrith,New South Wales,Australia
Students who take part in the Panthers on the Prowl program are used to having the likes of Michael Gordon around, but they were also paid a special visit ...
Google News Alert for: "David Lang"
Savings in Long Island City
New York Daily News - New York,NY,USA
David Lang, the owner of Pet Chauffer, here with "Gozu" a Shibu Uno, who is staying at the facility. Even with swanky condos and glamorous riverside ..
Panthers on the Prowl and a Shibu Uno; wow, I really do represent some stars. Of course the silly thing is that now I'll get two more Google Alerts for this blog entry, but so it goes.
When I was reading about David-Lang-owner-of-Pet-Chauffer (because sometimes I can't not click on these things), the Related Articles box on the Daily News website caught my eye:
Ah! An article about unemployed PR people picking coffee beans? That seems ripe for the blog! Unfortunately, when I clicked I saw the URL - http://www.nydailynews.com/latino/2009/04/07/2009-04-07_puerto_rican_unemployed_urged_to_pick_co-1.html. Every time I see ads for classes at MoMA, I comb through my schedule in hopes that I can find 5-week period during which I wouldn't have to miss two or more night classes for work stuff. I was an art history minor at school, and my favorite part of interning at The Whitney was getting to walk through the museum on the days it was closed with the curators. This summer, I was especially disapointed to miss the MoMA class on New York City architecture. ((shakes fist at the sky/job))
One of these terms I'll just sign up; concerts be damned. But I figure, if I miss/like school, other people must miss/like school, so why don't arts presenters offer music history classes that coincide with their season programming? I work in the industry, and if Alan Gilbert were teaching a class on Schoenberg at Lincoln Center in September, I would pay to take it. Concert tickets could be part of the cost for the course. I've previously wondered why presenters don't offer music classes (Alvin Ailey offers dance classes for children and adults) but adult/continuing ed classes would serve the same purpose: get people in your building, make them feel like they're a part of your organization.Online registration for Summer Courses is now available. Register online now.
MoMA courses offer adults the rare opportunity to study modern and contemporary art with leading art specialists during and after public hours in the Museum's galleries and multimedia classrooms. These discussion-oriented classes are taught by university professors, artists, and Museum staff. Enrollment is limited to twenty per course (twelve for studio courses), so sign up today.
Prices for courses are listed below. Sign up for Museum membership starting at $75 and receive free admission to the Museum for a year and the discounted course prices. Additional discounts are available for educators and staff of other museums.
FM headsets and neck loops for sound amplification are available for all courses.
Just thinking out loud/on screen.
Him: Excuse me, is this your first Free for All concert?
Me: Yes it is.
Him: Can I ask how you heard about it?
Me: Erm...I'm Hilary's publicist.
Him: Oh [laughing and looking away]. See, I'm the Chairman of Free for All, and we've been trying to get more young people out to our concerts. So I thought, well there's an elegant, nicely-dressed young lady; that's exactly the kind of concert-goer we want. I'll ask her.
I figure he approached either the exact wrong or the exact right person.

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It would be funny if by "opera glass" they actually meant that glass sitting on the table there.I was sitting on the steps at the Bang on a Can Marathon last weekend, and near the end of the (or at least my) evening it occurred to me that I - ever a creature of habit - had plopped down at the exact steps-spot on which Greg Sandow and I sat last year. Greg was out of town this time around, so I texted him at 8:42pm to tell him about my location. He texted right back, and our exchange continued until 9:35pm, on and off, including but not limited to subjects such as there being a pianist playing a drum (Greg has his own piece with a pianist playing a drum) and whether or not the concert was streaming live on WNYC (at which point I walked over and asked the marathon publicist Christina Jensen about this on his behalf). For a few select moments, I got the sense that the journalist who was sitting with my friend and me was throwing "what does she keep doing on that phone" looks my way. Was I being rude? I figure it's Bang on a Can: everyone's coming and going and texting and standing and talking and snacking. And besides, for those 53 minutes I was spreading valuable information about the marathon and the pieces being performed in real-time; one might call it "the A1A1 virus" marketing. So I clicked away to Greg, confident that I was doing everyone on stage a great justice and decidedly not being disrespectful to anyone or anything.
Reading the reviews of the marathon later, I had a few moments of "wait - when was that piece?". It seems I had missed a few things whilst clicking. I did stop texting during Julia Wolfe's Thirst because that was the new work I was most looking forward to - wait, looking through my phone now it seems I did send one text to Greg to say it was fantastic - but the rest of that hour was kind of hazy. Whoops.
I ran into publicist and proud Twitterati member Steven Swartz at one point that Sunday. While not a usual participant or advocate in/of Tweeting during concerts, Steven had been recruited by the marathon administration to be part of a Bang on a Can Twitter Team, which ended up generating 9.5 hours of Tweets. When I ran into him, Steven told me how much he enjoyed David Lang's new piece, For love is strong. "I even stopped Tweeting at the end!" he said, "It was so moving." Steven and others were charged with the task of live-Tweeting as a form of media coverage, but it seems that when he actually wanted to focus on the music, he stopped, watched and listened. My texting and Steven's Tweeting led me to wonder: there has been a lot of writing on this blog and others (see Greg on the topic here and here, Opera Chic here) about Tweeting, texting, taking photos, live-blogging - just about anything a person can do with their fingers - during classical music concerts. "People do these things at rock concerts all the time, and look how much more popular rock music is than classical music" is the overarching argument we make. But are you really listening if you're thinking about spelling a composer's name correctly in your live-blog entry? When you're fiddling around with the zoom and color swap settings on your camera? And if you're commenting on something that just happened, wouldn't logic dictate that you're missing the thing that's just-happening next?
I thought I was paying attention while texting Greg, and Steven thought he was paying attention while Tweeting. Maybe we were, in a way. It seems, however, that the line between passive and active listeners is thin. Is one audience member's viral marketing another's I'd-rather-be-elsewhere sentiment? And who defines the difference between "rude" and "comfortable"? Would it have made me more comfortable to not have food and wine and chocolate* at my apartment when some friends were coming over to watch the Tonys on Sunday? "Comfortable" in that it would have saved me two subway stops and some money, yes, but why invite people over at all if I was so concerned with the extra errands? I could have just watched the Tonys by myself in my underwear and messy, foodless apartment; Lord knows it's happened before. Additionally, when bloggers (including myself) and presenter marketing departments decide texting/Tweeting/painting their toenails during performances will Save Classical Music, do they think about or ask the artists? Are pieces and performances created and intended for audience members who are also doing something else? I agree that these initiatives can raise awareness about artists in great and organic ways, but has anyone asked the artists what they think?
Fortunately, I happen to know some artists, so I asked: how do you feel about audiences live-Tweeting/texting/blogging/photo-essaying during performances of your music, David Lang, and how do you feel about the above when you're on stage, Hilary Hahn?
David:
People texting or blogging during concerts doesn't bother me. I think one of the best things about listening to music is that you get to decide how much attention you want to spend on it, while it is going on. And I guess it is sweet to think that something live may be so exciting that a listener simply has to share it in real time. But I wonder if the idea of connectedness is changing the the way people experience things now. It could be that the ability to stay in constant touch may make listeners come to feel that they themselves are not having a valid experience unless they are letting someone know about it. And if the action of music is some kind of mystic direct communication between the person making it and the person receiving it that is a big loss.
Hilary:
I'm all for Tweeting and spreading the word, but not during performances. Between pieces, maybe, if you can stop when the music starts up again; while standing in line for the restroom, definitely; at intermission or on the train afterwards, definitely. The problem is that acoustic performers rely on the audience's attention and focus and can tell when the audience isn't mentally present. Your listening is part of our interpretive process. If you're not really listening, we're not getting the feedback of energy from the hall, and then we might as well be practicing for a bunch of people peering in the window. It's just not as interesting when the cycle of interpretation is broken.*I'm not going to pretend I don't always have chocolate in my apartment, guests or no guests. I just threw that in there for dramatic effect.
If you are Tweeting, then you might as well check your emails, and then you might as well just turn on the camera and make a recording for YouTube, and then you might as well have a little chat online while you're at it, or play a game of Tetris or Scrabble, or write down ideas for that presentation you have to give next week. In that case, really, the question is, why are you here? Are you enjoying the beauty of the live concert experience, in which moments are fleeting and you have to get caught up in the flow because it will never be the same again?
There's also the distraction factor. The stage is a great vantage point and a prime spot of acoustical convergence. It may be possible for you to do multiple things at once, but the same may not be true of the performers and your fellow audience members. They may not be able to keep themselves from wondering what you're writing instead of just listening and concentrating on their own individual experiences. You may not be able to delve into your own listening experience if you're thinking about what other people should be thinking.
Finally, it seems to me that listeners make things difficult for themselves by observing themselves in the third person and putting their thoughts into a narrative before those thoughts can fully form. I feel that concerts can be a break from outside pressures and influences. For audience members, a concert should be like a vacation on a distant beach with a stack of good books. Comfortable seats. No one trying to call you. No one breaking into your trains of thought. No way to reach the outside world. Just a time to shut off and calm down and treat yourself to something truly wonderful. If we can't sit through a classical concert we pay decent money for, and we can't take two hours out of an evening to shut out everyone else's demands and opinions and thoughts, where does that leave us?

So, if you're in the San Francisco vicinity on Monday, June 8 and you ((heart)) PR, come on by:
Publicist Bonding
5 - 7pm
Arlequin
384 Hayes Street
No Journalistz A(backwards L)owd.
Even though Molly Sheridan - who also happened to be my date to last night's concert - was the only person who thought my Pitch Snitch/Gawker Stalker for Classical Music idea was a good one, I'm sticking to it. Here's one:
On the drive down to Baltimore from Philly while everyone was stuck in traffic, some guy in a car next to Jennifer Higdon's gestured for her to roll down her window. She did, cautiously, only to have the apparent super fan exclaim, "I love your music! I'm going to the concert in Baltimore!"
I mean...the guy stuck in traffic is like "OMG omg that's Jennifer Higdon?!" ? Pitch Snitch will be comic gold, I'm telling you.
Speaking of Molly, did everyone see this? "And...can you teach me, how to target reeeal fi-i-ine."
The first was the movie The Brothers Bloom, and the second was the new musical Coraline at MCC. The movie was $12.50 (but I bought a ticket for my non-date date as well, so $25) and the musical was $49, (and God knows that ain't cheap.) I know you think I'm in-sane, I know it's not appealing, but my original idea for a blog post was to suggest money back guarantees; why should I have to pay for what I did not enjoy? Why aren't performing arts presenters 100% behind their product? Why can't they promise that the new - movie, musical, piece - I'm about to see is going to be worth my hard-earned cash? Of course, after actually thinking about it for two minutes, I realized presenters can't offer money back guarantees, because that would create cultures within a culture of making art to please everyone, and certainly no good can come of that (or...can it? Shouldn't people like what they pay to see and/or hear? Another blog post for another time, perhaps.).
In the case of The Brothers Bloom and Coraline, I didn't have a leg to stand on, though, muttering to myself all over the West Village about spending too much money and wasting my time, because I basically knew what I was getting myself into in both situations. The Brothers Bloom preview before Sunshine Cleaning was great - I even wrote that I was going to see the film a month or so back. I love Adrien Brody (I mean, love...), Mark Ruffalo, and Rachel Weisz, and I like a good con-(wo)man film as much as/if not more than the next guy. I chose not to read the reviews, but they were there for me if I had wanted to.
Coraline I saw before any reviews came out (and the reviews were generally positive, so I would have been led far, far astray anyway), but I could have waited for them, if I was worried about spending money on something I might not like. I had seen the movie (boring, even in 3D) and read the book (slightly less boring), but I like where Neil Gaiman's head's at, and the musical version of this tale had one big thing going for it: Stephin Merritt, most famously of The Magnetic Fields, wrote the music. If all else fails, I thought, the music will be fantastic, and I neglected to listen to samples on the show's website. Spoiler Alert: the music was misplaced and uninteresting, all the while trying way too hard to be perfectly placed and very interesting.
My friend James also strongly disliked Coraline, and afterwards said that - having bought every Stephin Merritt disc up to this point - he would not buy the next one, because frankly, this broke his trust with that artist. And you know what? That's fine; when a musician/composer/producer/director/actor you like does something you don't like, You the Consumer and Fan have to make the choice the next time around. Conversely, I probably will see another Adrien Brody movie in my day, but next time might wait and Netflix it.
My question in all this is, how much can and should producers and presenters prepare audiences for new works? Unlike a movie or an Off Broadway musical, a new classical music performance is usually only one night; audiences will not have the opportunity to read a review or hear the piece on the radio and decide if they should buy tickets for the next day or the next month. So on what basis are you taking your chance? Let's say my client David Lang has a new piece at Carnegie Hall. A potential consumer can Google David and find out that the last piece Carnegie commissioned from him won the Pulitzer Prize - OK, that bodes well. Some Googling will also tell them that there's [going to be on June 9th, ahem] a recording of the work, and that Carnegie Hall website has the piece streaming on their website. Great: if you like what the little match girl passion sounds like and you trust the Pulitzer committee, odds are you'll enjoy what David does in the same venue next. But how much information should Carnegie have on the page of their site announcing the next work by him (this is all purely an example, by the way - there isn't a new work that I know of!)? Should they/can they (with union rules) record a rehearsal and stream it? Post a pdf of the music? Have interviews with David on the site? Link to past press? In reality - again, if union rules weren't a factor - they could post a video or a recording of the whole piece. But does all or any of that spoil it? Take away from the excitement of hearing a new piece for the first time, whether an audience member feels like he or she got his/her money's worth in the end of not? Will people buy tickets if they've already heard an entire piece? Will they buy tickets if they haven't heard any of the piece?
We're told near the end of Coraline, "It's hard to do a thing when you might fail." Yes ma'am, it is, and art isn't easy, as another wise man once scored. But failure is subjective, and perhaps potential audiences should be given the tools to judge for themselves before clicking or saying 'Purchase'.
If you're in Beantown next week, come say "'ello" at the Boston Early Music Festival bright and early (9 am) at the Radisson Hotel on Thursday, June 11. Here is the complete festival (the festival? the festival) schedule. I will be talking about period bows for an hour or so. And by "period bows" I actually mean "PR".
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