Recently in main Category

From Playbill.com:

Perhaps the most famous incident of his career was instigated by New York Shakespeare Festival impresario Joe Papp. In 1973, when Papp learned that Mr. [Clive] Barnes had given a poor review to David Rabe's In the Boom Boom Room -- Papp's choice to open his reign as the new director of the Lincoln Center Theater program -- Papp called the critic at home at 11:30 PM and cursed him, yelling into the phone, "You think you're going to get me? Well, I am going to get you. I am going to get you." That might have been the end of the incident, except that Papp made the call in the presence of a New York Times reporter who was writing a story about the producer.

The next day, a letter from Barnes was hand-delivered to Papp's office. "Our telephone conversation (or rather your monologue) last night disturbed me," Mr. Barnes wrote. "Not merely because I am unaccustomed to receiving obscene telephone calls, and certainly not because of your violently phrased defense of Rabe's play -- I would expect no less -- but because in your anger at our difference of opinion, you questioned my integrity. You told me that 'You are out to get me.' This is transparent nonsense. I admire you as one of the major forces in our theatre -- and I imagine you have kept the press clippings to prove it."

Today we learned that Lang Lang is one of the Sexiest Men Alive, or so says People Magazine.

Now, I like Lang Lang a lot, but I have to ask...of all the men...alive...is he really...the superlative of sexy? David Beckham...Lang Lang...David Beckham...

I didn't get a sociology/biology degree between his Sexiest Man Alive status being declared this morning and the present moment, but I do know that "sexy" is in the eye of (body of? pheromones of?) the (be)holder. Who am I to say who/what's sexy to someone else? Who is People Magazine, for that matter? I always assumed (naively, perhaps) that "sexy" was more attitude than straight-up physical characteristics;  "beautiful" and "handsome" can be purely physical, but things like "sexy" and "cute" have some personality traits attached. Or perhaps more than personality elements, "sexy" has both effort and presumably an ultimate goal wrapped into it.

So it begs the question: how much or little does it matter if a classical musician is attractive? Not just objectively nice to look at, but actually sexually appealing to their audiences?

I'm always surprised when anything physical about a classical musician is mentioned in the press, and perhaps I shouldn't be, because physical descriptions are expected across the media of more mainstream performing arts industries-at-large. Just the other day, Peter Margasak previewed Lang Lang's Chicago Symphony concerts on his Chicago Reader blog: "With his youth, virtuosity, good looks, and dramatic flair, 26-year-old Chinese pianist Lang Lang is as big a star as the classical-music world produces these days." "Good looks" stood out for me: why even mention that, I thought, it's a matter of opinion. When Hilary made her Chicago Symphony debut in 2006, not one but three reviews mentioned her looks (hey, maybe it's a Chicago thing?), and that also struck me as odd. It should be about the rep and the playing, I groaned, but if I'm encouraging press and audiences to write about/think about the people and personalities behind the music in order to increase interest in the art form, why should the physical be off-limits?

Let's think about the classical musicians who are generally regarded as "sexy": Joshua Bell, Anne-Sophie Mutter, Anna Netrebko, Placido Domingo, The Eroica Trio? There are other objectively good-looking musicians in the industry, obviously - Esa-Pekka Salonen, Johannes Moser, Elīna Garanča, Hélène Grimaud, to name a few - but they don't come to mind immediately. Do the ones who do come to mind, come to mind because they want to come to mind? Are they the few who have recognized and used their appeal to further their careers? Alternatively, have their "teams" "handlers" "crew" (that is, managers and publicists) done it for them?


And does the classical music industry give artists the opportunity to use their physical attractiveness in a positive way, that is, to literally attract new audiences? It seems to me that the ones who do use their sex appeal (in publicity photos, in the way they dress in performance) are often mocked and considered less serious musicians than the ones who don't. How did we get to a place where sexiness is actually made fun of? Frowned upon? Isn't it a...good thing?

Do folks go to concerts because they find an artist attractive, or is that just an added benefit after the tickets have been bought? I may or may not have scored a ticket to Johannes Moser's last NY Philharmonic concert because I think he's dreamy, but clearly that wasn't the only reason I went. (...and I saw the new Bond movie for Dame Judi Dench.) So how should his manager and publicist use the fact that he is darn attractive to their (his) professional advantage? Is physical attractiveness just one more thing Negative Nancy's can use to criticize, judge and qualify artists' achievements (along with, well she got that cancellation, he got that Times profile, so on, so forth), or is it more dangerous and personal than those other possible "explanations" for success?

This could have been you, Gerard Mortier!

Or any arts organization executive director or orchestra music director, for that matter.

Keep us in the loop! We'll care more about what you're doing if you...tell us.

In recent days, the following happened in the topsy turvy world of media*:

• Alex Ross quotes a press release on his blog.
  
• Anthony Tommasini directs New York Times print and online readers to Jeremy Denk's blog in a concert review.
  
• Ronald Blum references Opera Chic in an Associated Press article. Opera Chic blogs about the reference.
• Inspired by a New York Times profile, Gawker suggests Nico Muhly compose a "singfest" for Gossip Girl. Nico Muhly accepts their offer on his blog.
  

*("  ")

I went to...brace yourselves...Mary Poppins on Broadway yesterday, and it took all strength I had left on a windy Sunday night to stop my 20-something sister from buying a Mary Poppins bird-head umbrella. Granted, the umbrella was pretty cute (if not slightly creepy), but, come on now.

The joint was filled with merchandise! It is, after all, a Walt Disney production, so the amount of merch was to be expected. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious t-shirts, Mary Poppins dolls, Mary Poppins mugs, a signed poster from the cast (those sales were going toward Broadway Cares, props for that), a Broadway Christmas ornament (also for Broadway Cares), souvenir sippy cups (a la the circus and sporting events), the obligatory snow globe...you name it, it was Poppinsed-out.

Do classical musicians sell merchandise? Other than a (possibly signed) CD, what souvenirs can people bring home from their classical concert experience? Even the smallest bands manage to print posters and t shirts to sell in addition to their discs, so why wouldn't/shouldn't classical folks?

Now I for one don't especially want/need Hilary Hahn's mug on a mug (although some people might...), but I would buy a tour poster. I wouldn't have minded a mug or whatever from Doctor Atomic, actually. We (and by "we" I actually mean "Josh's team") had beautiful posters created for Hilary's tour with Josh Ritter two summers ago, and I don't see why we (and by "we" I mean "I")  didn't do the same for her recent tour of China with the Vancouver Symphony, or for her upcoming US tour.


Also, who was buying the merch at Mary Poppins last night? Mostly parents for their kids. And who comes to a lot of classical concerts? Parents with their kids.  If I may digress for a moment, one thing I love about classical music CD signings is all the little kids waiting in line. Signings seem to attract kids, their parents, and then the older crowd. ((Gross Generalization!)), but something happens when kids stop taking music lessons. They go to college, cease attending concerts, and then come 'round to classical music when their culture/"should" instincts kick in. Again, generally.

So kids who take music lessons are coming to concerts. What can venues or individual musicians sell to support that? Custom-made violins (The Joshua Bell)? Music stands? A music book of artists' favorite pieces to play as children? Practice advise books?

Even the most basic, framed glossy headshots with pre-printed signatures would probably sell.

Back to Disney: my mom reports that when we would go to Disney World as kids, she'd get us these Disney-produced "Passports". Apparently, one had to run around collecting all the characters' signatures, and this would keep us occupied for days (it's the little things in life for me and Aliza, apparently). Wouldn't it be cool for Deutsche Grammophon, or iTunes, even, to put together Passports for venues to sell (or for download, in iTunes' case)? Kids could bring them to concerts and have the soloists sign them. Each page could have a photo of the artist and some basic info: hometown, age, favorite piece, etc.. There could be a violinist passport, a pianist passport, so on, so forth.

Kids like collecting. And everyone likes souvenirs.

Well, every publicist or marketing director, anyway.

Now, we all make mistakes. A few weeks back, I sent Steve Smith a potential Time Out NY listing without a date. He was kind enough to write back (errr...when is this??) rather than simply ignoring me, which would have been deserved. But I received two comments on this blog today that will certainly make me think about my pitching efforts and relationship with journalists going forward.

The first was an e mail suggesting I write about a website that I already written about, not five days ago. I'm not entirely sure how the person who pitched the site to me even located the "Contact" section on this blog without noticing the relevant entry, but she managed to. We live in the custom-built-for-the-lazy Age of Google. It is...painfully...simple to find out if someone has already written about your artist (or website, in this case), the fact that you're supposedly an expert on that which you are pitching (and consequently should know its press history) notwithstanding.

The second, and worse, was a comment on a recent entry ("I have had it with these motherf-ing snakes on this motherf-ing plane!"), from the American Symphony Orchestra. Not an actual comment, but rather a listing for an upcoming concert of theirs! What the Leon Botstein is this?? They tried to list a concert on a blog entry that used the word "motherf-ing" (2x) and referenced Snakes on a Plane, of all things! Did they think they could just sneak it in, folks would see it in the comment field - a blatant advertisement apropos of nothing - and buy tickets? Also - SPOILER ALERT - this is a blog about classical music publicity, so the ASO clearly didn't pay attention to where they were posting these listing-comments. Not incidentally, I asked two other ArtsJournal bloggers about this, and they got the same comment on recent entries. Is that...SPAM?

Not only is this just very odd, but it demonstrates a total lack of understanding of blog culture and etiquette. [insert "blog 'etiquette' is an oxymoron" joke __here__].

That said, perhaps the clever, clever American Symphony Orchestra has simply outsmarted me. If they purposely marketed their concert in an absurd fashion so I would post about it on this blog and consequently promote their concert, my hat goes off to them. Well-played. Well-played indeed.

Jerry Portwood is the editor of the New York Press, and he does a lot of theater reviews. Like lots of theater reviewers, he gets free tickets for plays from publicists. But last week, he was abruptly disinvited and taken off the list for the play "The Sexual Neuroses of Our Parents," just before he was scheduled to attend. The reason: the play's publicist didn't like a NY Press story that pointed out that the play's publicists were marketing it by hyping up the fact that Meryl Streep's daughter is a cast member. Losing a pair of free tickets isn't the world's biggest tragedy, but it brings up the interesting question: How are flacks supposed to handle bad press? Answer: a lot better than this. Read on.

I mean, clearly you have to give the guy tickets and just complain to the friend you're having drinks with that night about the story. That said, it does get a bit disrespectful, I think, when writers detail publicist's approaches in their features or reviews. Publicists are given the task of selling tickets - a play title that includes the words "sexual", "neuroses", and "parents" helps with that, too - so obviously they are going to mention Meryl Streep in their pitches, unless clearly told not to. I think the pitch is a reflection on Mamie Gummer herself, not the publicist in question. If she didn't want the publicist using her mother's name to promote the play, she should have, or perhaps would have, said something.

Nonetheless, we do not take away writers' tickets because we are mad at them, no we do not.

More thoughts for City Opera, should they decide to go into belated grassroots fundraising mode:

• Enlist top singers who love City Opera to create public service announcements, or an opera star-filled Obamaish video that can be easily forwarded and posted on opera blogs around the world.
  
• Have singers record phone messages, a la the crazy Snakes on a Plane marketing campaign with Samuel L. Jackson, that people can leave on their friend's voicemails. Idea courtesy of my sister.
• Does footage of Beverly Sills speaking about City Opera exist? That's probably good stuff. Put it in an e-card format and send it to all previous ticket-buyers and donors, thanking them for their continued support.
  

Hey! I even have a sample PSA for them, courtesy of my friend Jeff:

People will come, City Opera. They'll come to the Opera for reasons they can't even fathom. They'll turn up at the box office, not knowing for sure why they're doing it. They'll arrive at your door as innocent as children, longing for the past. "Of course, we won't mind if you have a look around," you'll say. "It's only fifty dollars per person." They'll pass over the money without even thinking about it; for it is money they [kind of] have and peace they lack.

City Opera, just sign the papers.

And they'll walk up to the balconies, and sit in suit-sleeves on a perfect evening. They'll find they have reserved seats somewhere along one of the railings, where they sat when they were children and applauded their heroes. And they'll watch the acts, and it'll be as if they'd dipped themselves in magic waters. The memories will be so thick, they'll have to brush them away from their faces.

City Opera, when the bank opens in the morning, they'll foreclose.

People will come, City Opera.

You're broke, City Opera. You sell now or you lose everything.

The one constant through all the years, City Opera, has been OPERA. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It's been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again. But Opera has marked the time. This stage, this music, is a part of our past, City Opera. It reminds us of all that once was good, and it could be again. Ohhhhhhhh, people will come, City Opera. People will most definitely come.

[Blogger's note: "come" can also be substituted for "donate".]

"The irony of all this, I really believe, and many others do as well, is if we could simply have gotten the first season on the boards, it really would have galvanized fund-raising." - New York City Opera's Susan L. Baker to The New York Times 11/7/08, on losing Gerard Mortier due to a lack of funds.


I hate to kick City Opera while it's down but...what first season? The homepage of their website, above, looks like the same old City Opera. I realize they need to promote the concerts they're presenting around town this season, but why is there NOTHING about the awesome 09-10 season we've all been told to eagerly await on this homepage? I can't even find the original season announcement in their Press Room section.

If City Opera was waiting until Mortier arrived to launch a new site, the powers-that-be made a huge mistake. Launch that puppy NOW (well, not now now, but at the beginning of the 08-09 season). Create a new logo. Employ Howard Dean/Obama online fundraising techniques: if you're going to really be The People's Opera, forget fancy Young Associates receptions and take my $25. Mortier graces you with his presence every 5 weeks? Sit him down for short video interviews every time he shows up and post them on your site and YouTube. Follow him around to meetings with a camera so we get some sense of what he's doing. Philip Glass is in the office? That's gold! Film him chitchatting with Mortier in the hall and put it on the site. Obviously, not all meetings can be filmed, but some can. Why not put a semi-staged meeting with Mortier and the communications department on the web? "Alright, mes camarades, we have this great season of 20th century music coming up, how are we going to market it?" Brainstorm brainstorm, film film. The worst thing that could happen is that potential new audiences actually find your filmed marketing meeting on YouTube and comment on it; that's free advertising and a free focus group all in one.

And you, Gerard "Mortier", you sir, are on my bad list. Also from The New York Times:

Speaking by telephone from his apartment in Ghent, Belgium, Mr. Mortier said he decided to resign when it became clear that the board would not give him the money needed to produce a meaningful slate of opera productions. He said that from the start he had been promised a budget of $60 million, a number even mentioned in his contract. But the board was prepared to approve only $36 million, he said, not much more than the basic fixed costs of running the company, leaving him little room for innovative productions.

"I told them with the best will, I can't do that," Mr. Mortier said. "I cannot go to run a company that has less than the smallest company in France." Mr. Mortier is in the final year of running the Paris National Opera, which has a budget closer to $300 million. "You don't need me for that," he said.

Actually, they do need you for that. They need exactly you for that. So kindly check your "Impresario" hallmark at the door, or perhaps qualify it in the future with "as long as I have money to spend". What kind of impresario is that?? Sure, if you were promised a certain budget and you didn't get it (among other complications, I'm sure), you have every right to walk. But what a star you would have been if you had just made it work. When life gives you less money than expected, make creative viral marketing and interesting artistic programming lemonade. I was interviewed this morning about how the economy is affecting the arts, and in the middle of the interview realized that I've been seeing "Recession sales" all over the place, and yet none on the NYC classical music scene. It's not actually funny that people are losing their jobs, but a recession is funny if you make it funny. [That may be the worst sentence written on this blog to date, but I hope you get my point.] And beyond having comedy potential, admitting that we're in a recession and that you don't have the budget you thought you would makes you accessible and instills compassion from the masses: we're all in this together.

Now, we all know the economy is not the only thing to blame for City Opera's lack of fundraising, but why didn't the company take advantage of that unfortunate historical moment and use it as a scapegoat here? More importantly, now that THAT opportunity has passed, will they use this more personal crisis - Mortier's pre-resignation - to their advantage? If City Opera called me up or sent me an e mail today about a new "Save City Opera!" campaign, I would write them a check. It wouldn't be for thousands of dollars, but it would be something.

You really want to be The People's Opera, New York City Opera? Then seize this moment and raise some grassroots cash. The URLs http://www.savecityopera.com/ and http://www.screwmortier.com/ are both available.