Treat Your Audience Well
There's been a bit of an industry kerfuffle going on in Orchestra World lately over a new marketing campaign launched by the Philadelphia Orchestra. I'm not going to get into it, partly because I have a number of good friends in that orchestra and it's the band I grew up listening to, so I'm hardly objective; and partly because I think it's silly to get so worked up over a slogan.
But one of my favorite ArtsJournal bloggers, Molly Sheridan, wrote a post earlier this week that went beyond the trashing of a slogan to address the larger issue that some American orchestras still aren't very good at making the audience feel welcome. That Molly makes the point by relating a personal experience in which she was made to feel welcome makes the post all the more effective:
"I think being open to and engaged in hearing much of the orchestral repertoire in 2010 hinges on fostering that connection between the mass of performers on stage and the audience members out in the dark of the hall. Without it, the most transcendental musical experience has an uphill fight on its hands."
It really can't be said much more succinctly than that. Times change, and though the music we're playing might be timeless (I said might,) the social trappings and crowd etiquette that go along with any public event evolve from generation to generation, and orchestras tend to be horrifically bad at noticing this. My pet theory is that this is because orchestras (especially major ones with venerable histories) prize Tradition so highly, and are therefore slow to accept any change, for fear that even a small adjustment in the proceedings will snowball into a wholesale devaluing of that Tradition.
That's why I'm not surprised that the orchestra that gave Molly such an unexpectedly pleasant night out was the Baltimore Symphony. The BSO is a major-league band, to be sure, but in the hierarchy of big-time American ensembles, Baltimore, like Minnesota, fits comfortably into what I think of as the "upstart" category.
Upstarts generally perform at a level comparable to more famous orchestras like New York and Philadelphia, but toil in unglamorous mid-sized cities that the New Yorkers who write the rule book of cultural fame tend to overlook. This can be annoying if you're an upstart band trying to find a permanent place on the mythical list of Great American Orchestras, but it's never going to change, so it's best just to accept it.
Besides, the upside to being an upstart is that you're probably less shackled to the whole Tradition thing than the hidebound ensembles at the top of the meaningless GAO list, so innovation is easier to achieve. And because residents of midsized American cities tend to be less likely than your average jaded New Yorker to interpret friendliness as a sign of weakness or stupidity, you can buy an awful lot of goodwill from the public just by smiling a lot and telling concertgoers how much you appreciate them coming out to the show.
Of course, I rarely experience an orchestra concert as a customer, so my view of things may be somewhat skewed. So I'm throwing this one open to all of you who buy tickets and slog through the winter snows to hear us play: give me your best/worst customer service experiences with an orchestra. Who does the little things right, and what is "right" to you? And most importantly, what's the one thing an orchestra can do, other than playing great music well, to make you want to come back?
But one of my favorite ArtsJournal bloggers, Molly Sheridan, wrote a post earlier this week that went beyond the trashing of a slogan to address the larger issue that some American orchestras still aren't very good at making the audience feel welcome. That Molly makes the point by relating a personal experience in which she was made to feel welcome makes the post all the more effective:
"I think being open to and engaged in hearing much of the orchestral repertoire in 2010 hinges on fostering that connection between the mass of performers on stage and the audience members out in the dark of the hall. Without it, the most transcendental musical experience has an uphill fight on its hands."
It really can't be said much more succinctly than that. Times change, and though the music we're playing might be timeless (I said might,) the social trappings and crowd etiquette that go along with any public event evolve from generation to generation, and orchestras tend to be horrifically bad at noticing this. My pet theory is that this is because orchestras (especially major ones with venerable histories) prize Tradition so highly, and are therefore slow to accept any change, for fear that even a small adjustment in the proceedings will snowball into a wholesale devaluing of that Tradition.
That's why I'm not surprised that the orchestra that gave Molly such an unexpectedly pleasant night out was the Baltimore Symphony. The BSO is a major-league band, to be sure, but in the hierarchy of big-time American ensembles, Baltimore, like Minnesota, fits comfortably into what I think of as the "upstart" category.
Upstarts generally perform at a level comparable to more famous orchestras like New York and Philadelphia, but toil in unglamorous mid-sized cities that the New Yorkers who write the rule book of cultural fame tend to overlook. This can be annoying if you're an upstart band trying to find a permanent place on the mythical list of Great American Orchestras, but it's never going to change, so it's best just to accept it.
Besides, the upside to being an upstart is that you're probably less shackled to the whole Tradition thing than the hidebound ensembles at the top of the meaningless GAO list, so innovation is easier to achieve. And because residents of midsized American cities tend to be less likely than your average jaded New Yorker to interpret friendliness as a sign of weakness or stupidity, you can buy an awful lot of goodwill from the public just by smiling a lot and telling concertgoers how much you appreciate them coming out to the show.
Of course, I rarely experience an orchestra concert as a customer, so my view of things may be somewhat skewed. So I'm throwing this one open to all of you who buy tickets and slog through the winter snows to hear us play: give me your best/worst customer service experiences with an orchestra. Who does the little things right, and what is "right" to you? And most importantly, what's the one thing an orchestra can do, other than playing great music well, to make you want to come back?
Labels: marketing, orchestras not named minnesota, the long-suffering audience
posted by Sam at
10:10 AM
2 Comments:
Well, what do YOU do to make your audience feel welcome and appreciated?
Well, I'd venture to say that we have some of the friendliest and most helpful ushers in town. We also allow more backstage access to the performer than most orchestras I've seen. Many of us make a point of connecting personally with audience members before and after concerts. And lastly,nearly the entire $40 million renovation we're planning is for audience spaces, not backstage facilities. But there's always more you can do...
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