For those cultural managers who make every extra effort to provide context, background, depth, and framing around their upcoming productions, in an effort to engage the potential audience with meaning and purpose, this story out of the U.K. will likely drive you mad.
The new play by film director and playwright Mike Leigh has sold out before it opens…and nobody knows anything about it. The working title of the work doesn’t add much insight: A New Play by Mike Leigh. The actors have been rehearsing off-site. The marketing department is in the dark. For publicity, there’s a poster with a palm tree on it.
And yet, 16,000 tickets are sold.
A spokeswoman in the article insists that the shroud of mystery is not a ploy, or a gimmick, but just a by-product of Leigh’s way of working — in highly improvisational and immersive interaction with his actors. Says the spokeswoman:
”Mike Leigh has always worked this way. It’s not like he’s come over all grand recently — he’s just trying to get the best out of his actors. He doesn’t want to break into their own world and interrupt their soul-searching, and doing PR would weaken that. It’s not at all a publicity stunt. We’re not trying to hype it up. We really don’t know what to expect.”
We all know that the lure and power of a well-known and well-respected artist can sell tickets, regardless of what is to be presented. But usually, there’s at least the patina of product description required to close the sale…providing that sense of purpose to the managers and brokers in the process.
If all art sold this way, the bulk of us would be out of a job.
Wot, no Trackback?
The Artful Manager makes the final comment, If all art sold this way, the bulk of us would be out of a job.
I’m not totally sure what he means by this. It could be that only artists with a reputation could sell their work, in which case newcomers could never break into the market, or maybe would have to give it a away for free to begin with (some might argue that much is sold so cheaply that it is more-or-less free anyway). Or is he implying that few artists have the marketing savvy to pull off something like this?
Actually, Derek, the ”us” I meant that would be out of work was all the management, staff, marketing, and other folks surrounding the artist…not the artists. Sorry if I was a bit too glib and a bit unclear.
I see what you mean Andrew. It does of course raise the question of whose decision it was to not name the play, at least yet. I really don’t believe the marketing department is in the dark; someone must have made the decision to use a palm tree on the poster.
I think this is actually some very savvy marketing, so don’t worry too much about your job just yet!
Don’t galleries do this all the time? Discovery of the new is more than half the fun. Trust the artist. How many people read a book knowing the end? Reviews don’t tell all. Art museums have become predictable and boring because they are afraid of failure.
In the sports world the TV producers have edited the Olympics the same way, they only show the winners. What ever happened to the “agony of defeat” which makes victory priceless!
People learn to admire talent because they see the average.
I’m curious to know the historical data behind Mike Leigh’s work. Does anyone know if his plays always sell this well, has his popularity risen steadily through previous marketing efforts and therefore he’s now able to ride on that momentum, does he maintain a fan base which is so dedicated that they take it upon themselves to promote his new work, etc.?
Regardless of the outcome I’m sure everyone could learn something from the results.
Unfortunately, the selling of guest artists on both symphony and recital series has become the object of sheer laziness on the parts of marketers. If they don’t know the name of an artist (and most don’t because they are not musicians in the first place), they do not take the extra time to become familiar with a new talent. The financial bottom line so adored by Boards of Directors who also seek a lazy route of non-fundraising, enhances this attitude in the belief that only supernames sell tickets.
So, the supernames become tiresome divas unwilling to accept any obligation save their performance. Meet with donors post-performance? “We’re too tired, so many engagements you know.” Give a local master class? “How much more accommodating can you make my fee?” Be gracious and meet audience members in the green room post-performance? “Have to catch a plane.” The tiresome list of these new prima donnas created by lazy and uninformed marketing departments is endless. But the disease has been catching and artistic administrators avoid the unwanted telephone sales calls from artists representatives like another plague because they have already submitted lists of desired star artists to their boards and conductors. If the boards approve of the stars who can’t help but sell the most tickets, then the artistic administrator’s job is secure for yet another season of the same dreary list of repeats by basically the same rondelay of the same artists ad infinitum. Sometime soon this strategy may lose its momentum as these artists become even more demanding (as it is donors are sought for the fees of really “special” artists. The artists deliver performances as though they were telephoning them in.
And, I beg to disagree with the comment that audiences gain perspective by hearing lesser talents. They have been taught by the music media to rise as one in enthusiastic response to these “stars.” But something is missing in those telephoned-in performances because audiences have instincts that tell them that the aging stars aren’t what they once were as fresh unknowns.
An exception to the foregoing is the formidable cellist Yo-Yo Ma whose perspicacious programming and genuine love of music and fellow musicians shines forth in an ever dimming firmament.