Easier Said Than Done

There's never been a shortage of people anxious to tell those of us who work in the arts that we're a) hopelessly behind the times, b) in desperate need of making our "product" more relevant to the next generation of consumers, and c) on the verge of complete irrelevance if we don't become more cutting edge and daring right this very minute. In the orchestra business, these people are usually consultants or media pundits (frequently the same people,) and in recent years, they've become shockingly good at getting their alarmist message wide distribution within the industry.

For the purposes of civility, I'll leave aside the question of how ethical it is for someone who runs a consulting business for orchestras to double as a pundit and editorialist forever claiming in whatever publication will have them that orchestras are in crisis and need someone (someone professional... you know, to consult with) to help turn them around. That's a topic for another day. My major beef with a lot of the "future of the industry" analysis I come across (and I read a lot of it, believe me) is that it tends to be awfully long on diagnosis and awfully short on cure.

For instance, it's become almost a religious conviction on the part of some in the orchestra business that the union rules governing recording, broadcasting, and other media are antiquated, and orchestras are being terribly hurt by their continued existence. (I'm starting with this issue because I don't entirely disagree with its premise. Our media rules are antiquated, and I defy anyone to say otherwise.) So you hear a lot of noise from the consultant/pundits about how fast the media landscape is evolving, and how desperate the situation is, and how if we don't wake up and change everything, like, yesterday, we're doomed to the same fate as 8-track tapes and Betamax video.

But even assuming they're right, where's the solution? Our media agreements are a nationally negotiated rule book that individual orchestras usually don't have the right to change even if we want to. (Also, these rules are agreed to by both musicians and managers, so blaming the whole thing on the union is disingenuous and wrong. Last I heard, a new set of more progressive media rules had been tabled because a certain crucial CEO walked out of the process.) And while the consultants are great at pointing out the finish line they want you to get to, I've yet to meet one who's found a way to navigate the tangle of individual interests that stand in the way. Or, for that matter, one who's even tried.

Another supposed truism you hear all the time lately is that orchestras have just got to invest major marketing bucks in social networking. Facebook and Twitter aren't the future, they're the present, and we're missing an entire generation of potential fans by not marketing to them where they live online! I recently read an entire newspaper article by a local Minnesota entrepreneur who wants to hold symposiums to teach arts leaders how to set up Facebook groups.

Now, here again, I don't totally disagree. I've been on Facebook for years, and I even finally signed up for a Twitter account this summer (mainly because Sarah bullied me, and also because someone told me I'd get the NHL entry draft news fastest there.) Social networking is an undeniably useful way of keeping in touch with large numbers of people, and that's obviously alluring to arts groups looking to build the 21st-century equivalent of word of mouth.

But honestly, when's the last time you responded positively to a company trying to solicit your business on Facebook? Hell, the Facebook universe practically exploded when they started running small ads on the site, and flamed up anew when the rumor went around that the company was going to start using your profile info to decide which ads to show you. And last year, when Sarah and I started creating event pages for our ItC concerts and sending them to everyone we knew (as well as asking y'all to invite people for us,) the response was, quite frankly, underwhelming. I'd be shocked if we sold a single extra ticket as a result. These days, the Minnesota Orchestra's official Twitter and Facebook pages mainly link to our blog entries and offer occasional concert come-ons and ticket discounts, which I suppose is better than not doing it at all, but which I doubt has resulted in much of an uptick in sales.

Again, I'm not saying that orchestras and other arts groups don't need to face the new realities of the entertainment world head-on, or even that the arts punditocracy is wrong to be constantly chanting their Change mantra. (As Sarah is fond of saying, if you don't like change, you'll like irrelevance even less.) But as this awful recession drags on and the ranks of those who seem to think they have all the answers for our industry grow by the week, I'm getting a little tired of reading condescending screeds full of lofty pronouncements but no specific ideas for how we might achieve the end results that the authors are so certain we need. Quite honestly, it's making me grumpy (as you can probably tell.)

Basically, what I'm saying to the ever-expanding universe of arts consultants and commentators is this: if you're so smart, kindly pick up a hammer and jump in, rather than standing around the edge of the foundation talking about how grand it will be if we just stick to your vision. Thanks.

Postscript: I'm aware that I didn't link to any offending articles in this post, which may seem to undermine my point for those who don't spend their free time reading consultants' reports and browsing arts blogs. Trust me, these people are out there - I didn't link them because a) I didn't want to boost their page views, and b) I don't really care to hear their responses.