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Sarah Lutman amplified

Defining R & D in the cultural sector: why we need innovation in grantmaking strategy

As part of the research project I’m working on with the Philadelphia-based Wyncote Foundation (see previous posts), I recently had the opportunity to attend the Annual Forum for Nesta‘s Digital R & D Fund for the Arts in London. To give you the lay of the land in case you don’t already know anything about it, Nesta calls itself “an innovation charity with a mission to help people and organizations bring great ideas to life.” R D Annual ForumNesta works in partnership with other businesses, nonprofits, government agencies, and funders to increase social impact and to innovate around ways to test new ideas, new financing methods, and new ways to gather and analyze results. Through research, piloting, convening, and publishing, Nesta spreads knowledge and improves practice around innovation, approaching its work across sectors and disciplines. If you’re interested in these topics you really should scour the website and follow Nesta and its principals on social media. They’re a font of useful information about emerging practice in many different fields.

The Digital R & D Fund for the Arts is a multi-year collaboration among Nesta, the Arts Council England, and the Arts and Humanities Research Council. The Fund was established to help “accelerate effective innovation and experiment, bringing together researchers, technology businesses and arts organizations.” The Fund’s £7 million budget (about $11.7 million in US dollars) has been distributed via 3 two-year grant cycles with maximum awards of £125,000 ($210,000). It was created in response to the one-two punch of challenging economic conditions and the onslaught of digital technologies that together have required arts organizations “to sharpen up their thinking about how to relate to audiences, and how to develop business models that can bring more revenue.” (Check out the first year report here.)

It would be great to have something like this in the U.S. The Fund is supporting really interesting projects. (Examples: the Imperial War Museum partnering with HistoryPin to invite the public to help curate the content in its First World War paintings collection, Dance Digital‘s development of an animated learning tool to help children create dances, and Cambridge Junction‘s effort to interest youth in digital music production through the development of a customizable and codable musical instrument.) But what interests me even more is the methodology. The underlying questions being asked at the grantmaking table are not about which projects are “the best” but rather which projects ask the best questions and are best designed to deliver answers that will result in field-wide learning. Nesta is taking a crack at defining the nature of R & D as it applies to the cultural sector, using the Fund’s architecture to innovate in processes that result in learning andfailbetter632 progress. The Fund’s goals are to generate knowledge, to share knowledge efficiently, and to speed up the rate of learning not just in the individual organizations that receive support but among the broader field of practice.

Field-wide sharing and learning was the topic of the Annual Forum, held in Vinopolis, a sprawling wine emporium and conference center at Borough Market in Southwark, conveniently adjacent to one of my favorite coffee shops. About 250 people from across the U.K. gathered for the day, many with job titles like Digital Producer, Digital Communications Officer, Developer, Creative Director, Senior Innovation Consultant, or my favorite, Imagination Catalyst (@KnowNOW_KnowHow). We heard a strong panel on “What is R & D in the Arts?” along with panel presentations from funded projects, keynotes delivered from a business’ (Patrick Bradley) and then a cultural organization’s (Nick Starr) perspective, and an interesting panel on the role of data as it applies to creativity and learning. Program highlights are viewable online and Nesta promises more coverage in future editions of its on-line publication, Native.

Nesta gave me a copy of the application form for the Fund (it’s not available online because applications are closed). The Fund’s specific interests are in expanding audience reach and engagement, and in the exploration of new business models (or a combination of these two). Each applicant must collaborate with a researcher and a technology provider, and is asked to propose “investigations from which the wider arts sector might learn.” Applicants incorporate a plan for the action research methods — created with the third-party research collaborator — that can capture lessons from their proposed experiments. This supports the Fund’s overarching goal to “extract lessons and transferable insights to contribute to a growing body of evidence and data on digital innovation in the arts.” The quality of the team — organization, researchers, technologists — and the clarity and importance of the question being asked, are determining factors in funding.

Nesta’s R & D orientation is different from the logic model-driven funding approach so pervasive among U.S. funders. The differences are more than semantic. Logic models detail intended inputs, outputs, and impacts, and are oriented toward planning, delivery, and evaluation. Logic models ask us to demonstrate the causal relationships between what we do (inputs) and what will happen (outputs and impacts). Logic models say, “If we do x, then y will happen.”

What Nesta has designed is a process based on “trying and learning.” It is iterative, modeling a creative process. Their model requires the development and clarification of an important question, one worth asking, and one for which the answer or answers are not known. In their model, the planning rigor is around the quality of the question and in how it will be investigated.  Their inquiry asks, “If we do x, what will happen?” The outcome is not planned, it is sought.

Perhaps I’m out of touch and if that’s the case, please, pile on the examples! But I don’t remember ever being asked by a funder, “What idea are you testing?” and “What data, evidence, and research findings can your project deliver?” and “How is this learning beneficial to the wider arts sector?” Einstein quote

Shouldn’t this methodology be added to the ideas and instruments grantmakers deploy in their program architecture? Certainly, we need operating support grants, capitalization grants, and support for major projects and initiatives, all funding mechanisms represented in contemporary grantmaking. But what would it look like if we also had specific support for R & D in separate programs whose purpose lies in the testing, documenting, learning, sharing, and iterating of new ideas?In thinking about anything at all comparable in U.S. private sector arts grantmaking, what comes to mind are the reports and publications about what the grantmakers are learning, not so much about what the grantees are learning.

In an environment in which the purpose of a grant is to learn, organizations have full permission to innovate, to fail, and to iterate. When the knowledge gained is shared, other organizations have access to data and results, and they’re encouraged to adopt and use tools and practices that work. Some of the Digital R & D Fund projects have been major flops, with audiences, or technically, or otherwise. And some are delivering very promising results. All learning is welcomed.

At a time when it seems especially important for cultural organizations to be able to try new things and iterate, Nesta’s approach is both sophisticated and refreshing. I’d love to see R & D approaches modeled locally, regionally, or nationally. What is stopping U.S. grantmakers from building similar efforts in our country?

Announcing Hothouse: Exploring new ideas in co-working with the Minneapolis Institute of Arts

Something new is launching in Minneapolis next week! I’m excited to announce Hothouse, a 12-week pilot co-working project I’ve created as MIA Entrepreneur in Residence. In collaboration with Hunter Palmer Wright, Venture Innovation Director of the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, Hothouse will explore whether and how the museum can foster a creative co-working space that is inspired by the museum’s collections, capabilities, and setting but operates independently as a lively incubator and convener. The pilot will demonstrate newHOUTHOUSE-02 ways the museum can use its assets, including its facilities, collection, and staff, for imaginative new civic purposes, and will encourage civic connectors and animators to draw on the museum’s resources to power their individual and collective work and impact.

The project will allow exploration of a co-working strategy that is new to the Minneapolis-St Paul region. The vision for Hothouse is to create a space not only for co-working, but also for fostering public discourse and civic engagement, reflecting and amplifying ideas and projects from the co-working community, and inviting the public in as participants and co-developers. Participants interested in this public programming orientation have been intentionally recruited for the Hothouse pilot. The group includes artists, journalists, non-profit organizations, small businesses, and independent producers and consultants.

(Who will be there? Here’s a list, some with links  — the list is still growing. Lutman & Associates, Ben Hertz, Coffee House Press, Collective Eye Productions, Copilot Web Services, Danger Boat Productions LLC, The Drawing Project, e-democracy/Open Twin Cities, Northern Lights, Pollen, Kate Nordstrum Projects, Chris Farrell (MPR))

The co-working group will share the MIA’s Villa Rosa Room, a large sunny meeting and event room on the top floor of the MIA, as well as using other museum spaces for programming. Co-workers will be encouraged to draw on the museum’s collection for inspiration and metaphor, collaborate with museum staff, and help identify opportunities and obstacles that can inform the feasibility of an ongoing co-working and alternative programming space. We’ll share our learning in a final report.HOUTHOUSE-02

During the 12-week pilot we plan to:

  • Explore the benefits of a co-working space connected to a museum
  • Identify new civic purposes for MIA’s less-used and rental spaces
  • Introduce new people to MIA
  • Discover ways the co-working community can draw on the MIA’s assets across their varied occupations and disciplines
  • Identify obstacles to public participation as co-workers create programs independently and “beyond the museum”
  • ​Foster new connections between co-workers and MIA
  • Encourage collaborations among the co-working participants that are new and actionable
  • Inform MIA future choices and directions

The Hothouse co-working pilot project has resonances for any cultural nonprofit that owns and operates its own buildings. What are the highest and best purposes for these structures and how can new creative uses be explored? How can we share infrastructure and ideas in new ways? And how can our increasingly independent workforce find ways to connect with each other and to cultural institutions in ways that amplify and extend the work? We will be working to discover the answers to these questions over the next twelve weeks. To track our progress, follow #Hothouse on Twitter.

Hothouse houseIf you think about it, there are all kinds of civic buildings — wherever you may live — that can be adapted to new uses and can become part of the sharing economy. If you know of other tests or projects going on that resonate with our ideas, please be in touch. And we’ll let you know how things go.

 

 

 

 

 

Be the orchestra: thinking far beyond putting concerts online

Recently I went on an excursion with staff from Philharmonia UK, the London orchestra founded in 1945.  The Philharmonia was then in week twelve of its thirteen-week iOrchestra project that engaged residents of rural south-west England in large-scale digital installations created to encourage exploration of orchestral music in very new ways. The installations travelled in three regions, and in each of them, the Philharmonia also scheduled a free live orchestral concert. In the months preceding, Philharmonia sought out local music, education and civic leaders and organizations as collaborators. iOrchestra’s goals are not only to provide deep arts experiences in local communities, but also to help strengthen local networks of people engaged in community-building through music.

The installations themselves were customized specifically for this summer’s project. MusicLab is cleverly built into a shipping container and outfitted with hands-on learning activitiemusiclab1.s for participants of all ages (mainly focusing on school groups and families with children). MusicLab’s multiple activity stations offer participants the experiences of composer, performer, producer, and conductor. Visitors can record themselves singing tunes of increasing complexity, try one of four instruments while being coached through video exercises featuring Philharmonia players, watch and listen to video segments of films featuring orchestral music, and work in teams to create layered soundscapes based on samples of all the notes that specific orchestral instruments can produce.

The day I visited MusicLab it sat on the edge of a very green park in Bodwin, Cornwall (population 14,700) and was full of a class of 30-odd boisterous elementary school children. They didn’t need help figuring out what the Lab elements were for, diving in to try everything with the energy children bring to new toys. Philharmonia education staff were ready to help if needed, and when the hour-long visit ended they led the group in a conversation about what was learned. Participants each got a location-sensitive badge to use when they returned; the badge gives information about how to log into the iOrchestra website to register and engage further. Those who register are eligible for prizes for further music experiences, and of course the data provided is helpful to the Philharmonia’s staff as they learn how participants use the digital tools and experiences. Many children come back multiple times after an initial school visit.

The Lab is relocated every week or two, pulled by a semi-rig to a new village. While parked it’s open six days per week; admission is free. Philharmonia prepares for the Lab’s visits through outreach to community organizations, schools, and through traditional media, informed by a detailed audience engagement plan (it weighs in at over 100 pages). It’s well worth mentioning that all the Lab’s interfaces, exercises, and graphic elements are elegant, open-ended, and self-explanatory platforms for exploration and learning.

Later that afternoon we traveled to Truro, a drive of about 30 minutes. Truro is a larger town. It’s the main shopping destination for Cornwall, and is home to a 19th century cathedral and charming downtown area where Cornish pasties, fish and chips, and fresh local ice cream are serious temptations. Smack in the middle of the town square Philharmonia had erected an enormous shapely tent and within it located a creation called “re-rite,” a media installation based on a video-captured studio performance of The Rite of Spring.

To describe re-rite is challenging.  It’s Philharmonia’s effort to help visitors “be the orchestra” – to step inside the orchestra as it is performing and experience the orchestra as the musicians do, physically and viscerally. Philharmonia calls it “a huge walk-through digital experience,” and “a musical journey.”

photo (9)Picture this. The white tent’s outer skin is taut and within it is a maze of large “rooms” separated by porous cloth “walls” that also are projection surfaces. It’s dark inside – blacked out. Each room is dedicated to a different instrument or instrument family – seven monitors and twenty separate projections in total. There are speakers everywhere.

Once the installation is activated, the orchestra tunes up and the performance begins.  Philharmonia players of each instrument family appear before you, projected larger-than-life within the distinct rooms. Wandering around the rooms, you can hear the entire orchestra, but the instruments you’re nearest are also the loudest, as though you are seated with that section. In front of each instrument family there’s a music stand (with light stands of course), several chairs, and the score for that instrument. Visitors can sit and listen, but also are encouraged to follow along with the score or even to bring their own instruments and play along (which people do). You also can don the tails set out next to the conductor’s podium and score, and conduct along with Esa Pekka Salonen, while watching yourself live on camera.

Visitors also can watch the performance on two video monitors while listening through headphones, each with a talk track. In one, musicians comment in real time about what it is like to play the piece. “Just think of running 100 yards as hard as you can, and while you’re still short of breath, holding a teacup – that’s what this passage is like,” says one. “We follow Andy here,” says another. “We watch Andy and then we play. That’s what I’m doing.” In the other video, Esa Pekka Salonen offers his own talk track, describing what he is thinking and feeling while conducting the piece. “When I think of my conducting since I started more than 30 years ago, the trajectory has been really simple: I do less and less. It’s one of the problems with being a young conductor. You don’t really trust the players because you don’t quite trust yourself so you’re conducting too much,” he says at one point when his movements are constrained and much is being accomplished through eye contact.

photo (10)The installation is as beautiful as it is absorbing, and in the best possible way – you don’t notice time passing. Once the piece is over, the loop begins again. The orchestra tunes, and they’re off and running. In Truro, re-rite ran on continuous loop many hours per day, open and free to the public

I was there for the Truro opening when Loic Rich, the town’s mayor, said this about the experience. “The Rite of Spring’s pagan orientation resonates here in Cornwall and as I saw the images, heard the music, and walked through the tent it reminded me of Stonehenge or Avebury. It seems so appropriately connected to our landscape.” Moragh Brooksbank, of the Arts Council England South West spoke next. “This project is dazzling in its scope and scale. We have an international orchestra working at the most local level. This exemplifies our goal of great art for everyone and shows how we can use digital to spread a love of the arts.” The Philharmonia offered free shuttle service in the region so people who needed transportation could experience re-rite.

I’ll be writing more about the Philharmonia’s adventurous media efforts, how they’re imagined, structured, funded, and sustained. But in the meantime, check out the iOrchestra project on-line, follow the project @iOrchestraUK and if you can, go to a future installation and be the orchestra.

Congratulations to Esa Pekka Salonen and the musicians of the Philharmonia for this intriguing work, and for their eagerness to create it. Can we experience these installations stateside soon, please?

 

 

 

Practicing extreme transparency: Why does your “About Us” section have to be so boring?

Entrance to Walnut Creek's maintenance yard

Entrance to Walnut Creek’s maintenance yard

As part of a major project I’m working on with the Philadelphia-based Wyncote Foundation, I’ve been spending a lot of time on the websites of cultural organizations; looking at their apps, social media projects, and other digital channels; visiting them to see projects first-hand; and talking with them about the capabilities and resources needed to do the work.

In the course of this research I’m engaging with interesting people and seeing a lot of terrific work and so I’ve decided to start blogging about it, in part to engage all of you in the journey. (Besides, maybe you can help.)

First up is an example of extreme transparency on the business side of a cultural enterprise – at least by the standards of U.S. cultural nonprofits. It’s easily discoverable on the website of the Tate in England. An early and persistent leader in all-things-digital (more on that another time) the Tate’s leaders also are modeling their explicit strategy of creating “a digital dimension to everything we do” by doing something other organizations could do, but most don’t. The Tate has created a transparent and content-rich “About” section of their website. It even looks good.

I won’t recount all the things that are there, just a few highlights to entice you to look around for yourself.

Try these for appetizers:

  • Board minutes going back to 2009
  • Information about how to become a Board member
  • Interactive organizational charts with bios of people in leadership positions and their salaries
  • Position papers, existing and historical, on topics like digital strategy and diversity strategy
  • A digital metrics dashboard with updated monthly results
  • Research and evaluation reports across all departments and activity areas, like this report on understanding visitors’ use of the on-line collection and this section on research-in-progress throughout the organization
  • A link to this interesting archive of the Tate’s websites going back to 2004

Organizations of every size have all kinds of enterprise information they’ve never catalogued for sharing with the public. In fact a lot of website sections called “About Us” are a sort of corporation yard that is both disorganized and ugly. I speak from experience, having combed dozens of these sections over the years for a variety of purposes.

Interactivity depends on openness and transparency – on offering ideas, processes, and information substantive enough to make interaction worth it for the participant. If you’re a leader reading this, what’s stopping you from pursuing radical transparency and reaping the benefits of deeper engagement and interaction with the public, and with policymakers, researchers, and funders?

I asked John Stack, Head of Digital at the Tate, about this. “In terms of advancing our digital strategy across the Tate, we thought we should model the needed behaviors.” Bravo.

Know of other interesting examples? Would love to hear about them.

 

 

 

Reflections on a week at Harvard Business School (and thank you NAS)

For the past two weeks I have been digesting theHarvard Business School classroom terrific week of learning at Harvard Business School that National Arts Strategies offered as part of its Chief Executive Program.

The week’s theme was The New Nature of Relevance, and our case studies, HBR articles, and group exercises were designed to foster conversation about leadership and how to steer our organizations through the opportunities and obstacles presented by the post-recession, digitally-enabled, generationally-shifting, globally-connected world.

For me, the location of our conversations was a vivid reminder of the challenges we face. That’s because the business of higher education is undergoing the same sea change we are navigating in the nonprofit cultural sector. I was gob-smacked when on the second morning of program, the weekly email from Strategy + Business landed in my In Box, this one titled “The University’s Dilemma” with the subtitle, “In the face of disruptive change, higher education needs a new, more innovative business model.” After I read the piece, by Tim Laseter, the entire week became a play within a play. On the one hand we were having deep conversations about boldly creating new organizational forms, new outcome norms, and new ways to engage people in the arts. On the other hand, we were doing it within a delivery system that is itself grappling with the need to change. (More than one professor told us that in 20 years, more than half the colleges in the U.S. will no longer exist.)

Don’t get me wrong. Harvard executive education is an extraordinary experience. We worked in state-of-the-art classrooms in a beautiful setting; read outstanding preparatory materials; engaged with well-prepared, articulate and challenging professors; ate really good food (at least by institutional standards!); and were attended to by a courteous, helpful staff. The gym was palatial, the reception areas spacious, and everything was spotless.

But as Laseter points out in his essay on why education needs to change, universities are failing on multiple fronts. Costs are skyrocketing (Harvard’s website estimates the cost of a year at the Business School for a single person is about $87,000); fewer than two-thirds of students enrolled in a four-year institution attain the targeted degree (national data from Laseter); and even as college enrollment has grown, employment forecasts predict a shortage of employees appropriately prepared for the kinds of jobs being created. The employer/university relationship is frayed because higher ed is not keeping pace with employers’ needs; its relevance is being directly confronted. The value proposition — that a college education will result in a better, higher paying job, justifying the time and expense of college – has eroded. Sound familiar?

Laseter says, “In the business world, such poor performance typically leads to industry re-structuring fueled by new entrants, as well as innovation by a subset of incumbents. Those moving too slowly or in the wrong direction don’t survive … Although [those] few elite institutions may be buffered from disruptive forces, the vast majority of institutions of higher education face disintermediation in their existing relationships among employers and students. Pressure from new entrants as well as the leaders among existing players could squeeze out weaker institutions, repeating the pattern of so many other industries. To navigate through these forces, universities need to follow the example of their business counterparts and fundamentally rethink what they do. They need to foster new capabilities, reconsider their means of attracting revenues, and allocate costs more closely to their value proposition. In short, using the language of strategy, it’s time for a new business model.”

Perhaps we can take some comfort in the notion that it’s not only the arts sector that faces these pressures. It means we all are in this together, that there’s no clear path out, no models to copy. It is a creative time to discover how to move forward. Fostering new capabilities, reconsidering means of attracting revenues, and allocating costs more closely to our value proposition are ideas the cultural sector has been grappling with for years.

So what to do? Laseter’s suggested actions correspond almost directly to our NAS/Harvard readings and case studies.

First, consider your potential rivals. “Benchmark your rival and potential rival innovators, not only in your own industry but across industries.” For the nonprofit cultural sector, this requires a close look at for-profit entertainment providers, user-generated projects and collaborations, peer-to-peer learning exchanges, amateur cultural activities, all variety of media consumption, and ways audiences have become participants, curating their own experiences, rather than passive, consuming programs of our design.

Laseter focuses on technological disruption in learning systems, and identifies on-line gaming, third-party credentialing organizations, and on-line courses as examples of disruptive entrants into higher ed’s space. Paralleling his ideas, as part of our Harvard course we read a case study of the Metropolitan Opera’s Live in HD program, and discussed whether this disruption strengthened or undermined the ecology of the cultural sector (with good arguments on both sides).

Second, know yourself. Organizations need to identify and understand their unique value propositions. This will differ across arts disciplines and might include an organization’s ability to curate (separating signal from noise, bringing unexpected or new work to light), to amplify (helping artists and projects achieve scale), to engage (creating clear pathways for cultural participation), to touch directly (offering face-to-face instead of mediated experiences), to expand knowledge (offering interpretative, participatory or scholarly programs), or to animate (bringing creativity and energy to cities or neighborhoods). Above all, Laseter warns, don’t try to be all things to all people. Determine how you can excel and then go for it.

Our readings included V. Kasturi Rangan’s 2004 Harvard Business Review article, Lofty Missions, Down-to-Earth Plans. The piece exhorts non-profit organizations to go beyond their “broad, inspiring mission statements” to create systematic methods of establishing a “strategy platform,” which determines how the mission will be achieved, including what programs will be run and how they will be run. Rangan says, “Instead of trying to be all things to all people, non-profits should pick a niche, craft an operational mission, and flowing from it, formulate a coherent strategy platform. Then it should vigorously pursue those programs that support the logic of the entire strategy.”

Now. Forward to the basics. Laseter says institutions — more than ever — must have a clear, explicit rationale for what they deliver, particularly in light of declining results and growing costs. And, he says, “Institutions of higher education have the ability to solve the crisis they currently face, but resolve presents the greatest impediment.” 

Consider this last observation as it applies to the arts. Cultural institutions have the ability to move forward energetically, if only they have the resolve. Often, colleagues in the NAS program report they “can see it,” they know what to do. But that does not make the “how to do it” any easier. It helps to discuss examples of successful change, to consider cross-sector examples, to think about rival innovators, to agree on the key value proposition, and to know we’re in it together.

(Our readings included Leading Change: Why Transformation Efforts Fail, by John Kotter.  A classic of the literature, this is a piece to read and re-visit regularly.)

I imagine that after we left, Harvard administrators were in meetings across their spectacular campus, engaged in a parallel conversation. Undoubtedly they are examining their fixed costs, thinking about technological innovation, creating new ways to engage students, and working to preserve their primary value proposition, that higher education is the gateway to a better life. How they will continue to deliver high quality educational experiences in a changing world? I hope that some of our creativity rubs off on them. They’ll need it to define the new nature of relevance. It will be interesting to see what comes next at Harvard.

Don’t hope

Hope graffiti, photo by Rupert Ganzer

About a month ago there was a NY Times interview with Ben Lerer, co-founder and chief executive at Thrillist Media Group. He says, “One thing we preach at work all day long is ‘don’t hope.’ What that means is don’t wait for somebody to do something for you. Don’t do something 90 percent well and hope that it’ll slide through. Don’t rely on luck.” Lerer went on, “It is important to know that you’re giving as close as you can to 100 percent, dedicated effort, and you’re being thoughtful about it.

Definitions of hope: “The feeling that something that is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best” (Dictionary.com) or “To desire with the expectation of obtainment” (Merriam Webster).

I’ve been thinking about Lerer’s interview (you should read the whole thing) and how it relates to our nonprofit cultural sector. We live in a world of hope. Like what? Here are some things that we have been known to hope for:

– That a long-shot source of funding will come through to fill our budget gap;

– That our grant request is an exception to guidelines but that we are so special an exception will be made;

– That our expense budgets can increase much faster than the rate of overall economic growth;

– That we can leave a gap in budgeted revenue and it will be filled ‘somehow’;

and many other things.

In fact the nonprofit sector is built on hope — hope for community vitality, hope for educational opportunity, hope for jobs, hope for civic engagement. Many of us are drawn to the sector because we are optimistic people, people who hope because we think that “what we hope for can be had.”

So what would it look like to preach “don’t hope,” and would that change how we operate?  I think it would. I think that “don’t hope” is a particularly useful post-recession state of mind. The recession is showing us just how unstable a house built on hope can be.

In a recent meeting, a colleague said they’d have “to hope for a lucky break” to avoid a deep deficit in the coming fiscal year.  And that reminded me of Ben Lerer. I thought to myself, “Don’t hope.”

Don’t hope also means DO ACT. Act to the best, fullest of your ability. Act with the conviction that it is actions, not hopes, that will make the critical difference.

New business models? Bring them on

I have been following the modest torrent of discussion in the blogosphere about appropriate business models for the nonprofit cultural sector. A recently published paper was useful to my own thinking about this so I’ll summarize it here and direct you to the link. The paper’s author is Peter Frumkin of the RGK Center for Philanthropy and Community Service at the University of  Texas, Austin. It was distributed to the 100 arts leaders who are part of National Arts Strategies’ CEOs Program, which convened in Austin in May and is now posted on the NAS website.

What Frumkin lays out in the paper, Changing Environment: new forms, actors, and instruments, is that there now exists a spectrum of organizational forms that are more and less appropriate to enterprises with different purposes, financial structures, and  approaches to leadership. The spectrum reaches from “entirely commercial, for-profit and market-driven” and on one end to “entirely charitable, voluntary, donative” on the other. The middle ground is “full of hybrid forms” such as social purpose for-profit enterprises, L3C’s , B Corps, and non-profits reliant mainly on earned income, among others.

In his excellent blog post blog post on the subject of business models last week, Adam Huttler (who is in the NAS program) offered up some of the alternative organizational forms that artists and cultural entrepreneurs are now using. As a teacher and researcher, Frumkin goes considerably farther, drawing a visual map for how to think about one’s enterprise through a series of three filters and then choosing the organizational form (business model) that best fits. He argues that the nonprofit model should no longer be the default.

Frumkin’s three assessments are the social value proposition (what type and amount of capital is needed and to whom will equity be dispersed), the competitive landscape (analysis of the ways of generating revenue by identifying whether customers can and will pay for the product or service directly or will third parties be needed to pay or help pay for it, which includes understanding how the product/service will be priced), and traits of the leader (how will value, power, and wealth be developed by and distributed among stakeholders). On this latter point Frumkin contrasts a cultural institution that is community- and outwardly-focused (such as one in which an entire community participates in the formation of a shared vision) to one that is individually- and inwardly-focused (such as one that is primarily serving the vision of a single artist or small group of artists).

One of Frumkin’s most interesting observations is that not only are the organizational forms shifting, with new forms emerging, but also the nature of investment in the cultural sector is changing. “New instruments are being used to finance social impact across the nonprofit sector and in the process create new ways to finance organizational growth … The funding scene has shifted over time where the impact investor, not longstanding foundation donors or individual givers, is the key trend setter. These new impact investors … have made strong demands for results and proof of impact, which have challenged charities and arts and culture organizations in particular. .. Nonprofit organizations need to appreciate that there are signs of a shift away from grants to quasi-equity investments, which allow investors in nonprofits to participate in the financial upside—and downside—of programs financed with their funds … There have also been efforts to launch social stock exchanges that permit investments in businesses that have a social purpose, and allow these firms to raise capital more efficiently than would otherwise be possible. And there are many new ideas about debt instruments for the nonprofit sector, some of which would be pertinent to larger arts and culture organizations seeking to mobilize funds for capital and other projects.”

Frumkin urges cultural entrepreneurs to study up on the possibilities that new forms of investment and new organizational forms can offer. These new possibilities are refreshing and energizing to cultural entrepreneurs and we need not view them skeptically or with fear. That’s because there are many more ways to pursue our work than was the case even five years ago. There’s growing acceptance that no one way is right or wrong.  And there are plenty of examples of vibrant organizational practice all along Frumkin’s spectrum.

New business models? Bring them on.

What I learned from Bill Kling

Bill Kling photo in studio from the MPR website

Today was Bill Kling’s final day of work as President of Minnesota Public Radio, where he’s led the development of the largest and arguably the most successful public radio organization in the United States.  His 44-year tenure has been marked by a series of bold, anticipatory moves that taken together more than earn him the title of Visionary.

I worked at MPR for 9 years in a variety of roles, worked with MPR for the prior 9 years as a representative of one of the network’s largest funders, and work now for an organization that counts MPR (and its national producing company, American Public Media) among its most important, long-term partners.  It’s easy to count Bill Kling as one of the most influential leaders in Minnesota, and not just from my vantage point.  The network boasts the largest per-capita listening audience of any public radio network, its family of websites attracts visitors from around the world, its Fitzgerald Theater is a platform for iconic live events, and its development of a 100,000+ membership base means that citizens all across our fair state belong to MPR, and in an unusually loyal and passionate way.

So, here are seven big things I learned from Bill.

1. “It’s about the audience.”  This is the “Bill mantra” inside the organization.  He constantly asks staff across the organization to put the audience foremost in their minds.  He has an unusually keen ear and gut sense of when someone is producing content or positioning the organization in a way that makes it more about them than about the people on the receiving end.   Bill has trusted the audience to support the network’s ambitions and to lead the organization to bigger and better things, and he’s fiercely loyal to them. And, he’s been right.

2. The audience deserves the best. Bill is not a guy who tolerates a B+ effort.  If something can be done better — more thoroughly, more imaginatively, with better craft —  it’s best you get on with it if you want to work at MPR.  He expects everyone to work full bore and he leads by example.  When the organization is able to do something new and meaningful for the audience, you can sense Bill’s almost child-like excitement of having brought something truly special to the community.

3. Risk is necessary (and so is speed). If an idea is good, it’s important to do it.  Bill doesn’t stop to make sure everyone is on board and he doesn’t need every detail to be worked out before he’s ready to launch something.   A big part of Bill’s success is a willingness (if not an imperative) to commit now to something’s that’s timely.  If it needs doing now, he’ll get on with it and figure everything else out later (which goes back to #1 and #2 – if you’re serving the audience they will reward you for it.)

4. Organizational strength is about the balance sheet. Beyond the enormous audience gathered around MPR’s electronic hearth, Bill’s legacy is MPR’s $100+ million fund balance and 45+ radio stations, all built through ingenious and creative business and philanthropic strategies. Bill has achieved the goal of securing the long-term future of the network and giving the organization flexibility to leverage its own resources to take risks.

5.  Shared infrastructure is good business. While most nonprofits work toward building their own independent fiefdoms, Bill figured out early that if you want to create something at scale it makes most sense to share infrastructure.   The Finance, HR, Legal, and other service functions inside MPR support the three radio networks in Minnesota (News, Classical, and The Current),  stations in Los Angeles and Miami, many national programs, the digital infrastructure of all the entities, and  the Fitzgerald Theater.  We can all learn from this model.

6. Organizations need creativity to thrive. Bill respects talent and creativity.  He understands the creative temperament, and cheers those who can speak to the audience in unique ways.  Something that’s a bit messy, and good, is better than something mediocre that’s tied up with a bow.  Bill isn’t afraid of passionate people and as a result MPR is full of them.  It’s an amazing work force.

7.  Barnacles come with leadership.  Bill has ruffled more than a few feathers and raised more than a few eyebrows on the road to achieving MPR’s success.   But he stayed the course throughout, adamantly advocating for both his ends and his means.   It is interesting to experience this community’s overwhelming show of support for Bill as he’s retiring and as the news stories about his legacy proliferate.  ‘Twas not always thus.  So don’t expect everyone to agree with you if you are a trailblazer.

I saw Bill walking around Saint Paul last week on his way to lunch and he seemed cheerful and relaxed.  I can’t wait to see what he’ll achieve in the next few years as he devotes himself to the expansion of the public radio news system.   It’s been a great ride, and in Minnesota we have the best public radio system in the U.S. to show for his efforts.

Sarah Lutman

I am a Twin Cities-based independent consultant and writer working with cultural, philanthropic and public media organizations across the United States. You can read my entire bio on LinkedIn or read about current clients and projects on the Lutman & Associates web site.

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