Name Recognition

As I've mentioned before, a lot of the time between Inside the Classics concerts is spent gathering and analyzing data from people who attend, or are thinking about attending, our series. From the beginning, ItC was conceived to be something of an incubator for new orchestral ideas, and it does us very little good to be throwing new concepts at the wall unless we have a way of measuring which ones are sticking. Thus all the research, and the pleas for feedback, and our virtual obsession with who is coming to our concerts and why.

To that end, we're currently working with a great Chicago-based company that specializes in such research and has been running polls and focus groups for us to measure the effectiveness not only of what we do on stage, but also the various posters, flyers, ads, and mailings we put out to try to generate interest. It's always fascinating to read the diversity of opinion that gets offered up in these situations - in a room of 7 or 8 people, you're likely to have 9 or 10 opinions. (This is why we use professionals to analyze it all - they've seen it all a thousand times before, and they're expert at picking out and explaining the trends that are hiding in the mass of data.)

This past week, we had a big meeting to go over the latest focus group data, and as usual, my favorite part of the morning wasn't so much reading about the larger trends that we'll actually look at as we form our future concert seasons, but the individual comments and quips from audience members. For instance, it's abundantly clear from all the research we do that Sarah's name and identity are firmly lodged in the mind of everyone who's ever seen an Inside the Classics show. When it comes to me, however...

...not so much. It could be a function of years of pre-conditioning of audience members to make the conductor the primary focus of their attention, or it could be that I actually say Sarah's name several times over the course of any given ItC show, whereas mine might come up only once. It could even be (gasp!) that Sarah is simply a more memorable onstage presence than some dorky violist with a microphone.

But whatever the reason, the research is clear that, while people tend to be very complimentary of the role I play in our concerts, and say very nice things about the onstage chemistry between Sarah and me, they seem to have a very hard time remembering my name. Which doesn't actually bother me in the least - I'd much rather they remember the music they heard, or the fact that they want to be sure to return the next time Sarah's conducting - but it has led to my acquiring some interesting nicknames among the ItC planning team.

One woman in the most recent round of audience research referred to me as "The Other Fellow." Another went with "the character." Yet another said, "I was very intrigued when a viola player got up... because they don't get to speak very much!" (This person has clearly never seen the Minnesota Orchestra viola section in rehearsal.) And my favorite: one gentleman, after struggling to remember my name mid-sentence, finally went with "Viola Boy." (This last one so delighted our Marketing VP that she immediately dashed off an e-mail to inform me of my new nickname.)

As I say, I could actually care less whether anyone remembers my name, so long as they remember that they liked the show. And I have to admit, I've started looking forward to reading whatever new noms de spectateurs I'm graced with when new research data arrives. Not sure anyone's gonna top Viola Boy, though. I might need a superhero costume to go with that one...

Image borrowed from the awesome ViolaMan.net...