It is no mystery that I enjoy hearing myself talk. The only thing I like better than that is hearing others talk. Especially smart others. Like people that talk at TED events.
And so, on World Theatre Day, I'm very proud to make the official announcement...
On May 7th, I will have the incredible honor to host a TEDx event myself, TEDxMichiganAve. I have been granted a license to present a TEDx conference focusing on the future of the arts industry. It's a heady task, but I really can't wait.
I'll be making many more announcements over the coming weeks about speakers, the venue, the official website, volunteer opportunities, etc., but most of those will be on Facebook and Twitter. I encourage you to follow our progress there.
Let's come together and not only bring the best that the industry has to offer, but let's also show the world what the arts industry has to teach to other thought leaders all around the world.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Ideas worth spreading
Labels:
thought leaders
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Let them eat cake
I've been having a hard time getting back to writing after grandpa's death. A lot of other things have gone back to normal for the most part, but writing is one of those deeply emotional, deeply personal things in life, even if you're a business writer.
And yet emotions are at the core of our success as fundraisers. In the arts, emotions are on raw display so often on stage. It is the power of emotions that truly drives our campaigns, and when we can connect the emotions from the stage with the emotions in the heart of our patrons that they give most earnestly.
In summarizing the textbook, Science of Giving, which studies the research done on philanthropy and how people give, Katya Andresen makes her very first point about the emotional nature of giving that she found as a thread throughout the research.
So how do we use our own emotions in a way that can help us summon this success?
I was at a greek restaurant with my girlfriend near my mom's home that I always enjoyed late one night. They have these amazing giant lamb chops that I decided I needed to bury myself in after a long, long day of putting my grandpa in his grave and helping host the stream of people coming to comfort us all. My girlfriend and I were the last customers there, and they were wonderfully gracious about it.
It felt natural to me that to be generous on an insane day like that, in thanks for the great service, to honor my grandpa, in memory of long-ago days when I also had had long days as a server and had wanted to finish my day and go home, would make me feel better and be well-deserved. I gave our server a very generous tip, and once he came to collect it, I got ready to go. I heard him discover the tip with his companions, and it made me smile to know that on such a day, one person at least was joyous through such a simple act as giving.
What really struck me though was that that wasn't the end. The server ran out of the back of the restaurant as we were about to walk out with an enormous piece of the house special cake, a pineapple-upside down cake with real whipped cream and a generous dusting of cinnamon. He insisted that his manager had wished us to enjoy it.
I was stunned. In all the years I've occasionally popped in there while visiting my mom, they hadn't made it a policy to give away luscious desserts. Certainly, I hadn't given the tip with any hopes of gaining anything myself. And, oh, how I was stuffed from the meal. I took one bite of the thank you cake to be polite, and asked the kind server to wrap up the rest so I could enjoy it later (and did I ever). I went again later in the week for more lamb chops with my mom.
There's a lesson there in giving, in what giving gives you, in stewardship, in the potential lifetime value of those that give, all from the seat of emotional, irrational giving. I think I'll step back and let the story stand on its own and simply take this moment to thank you, my noble readers, for the tremendous outpouring of support and comfort in this difficult time. Knowing that there are so many people out there that are thinking of me is part of what is making it possible to get back to an even-keel. Know that you are deeply appreciated.
But don't worry, I don't expect pineapple upside-down cake from each of you.
And yet emotions are at the core of our success as fundraisers. In the arts, emotions are on raw display so often on stage. It is the power of emotions that truly drives our campaigns, and when we can connect the emotions from the stage with the emotions in the heart of our patrons that they give most earnestly.
In summarizing the textbook, Science of Giving, which studies the research done on philanthropy and how people give, Katya Andresen makes her very first point about the emotional nature of giving that she found as a thread throughout the research.
1. Giving is mostly emotional and irrational.The right brain tends to rule the left in giving, and people donate out of feeling more than thinking. In fact, if you get people to stop and think, they tend to give less.
So how do we use our own emotions in a way that can help us summon this success?
I was at a greek restaurant with my girlfriend near my mom's home that I always enjoyed late one night. They have these amazing giant lamb chops that I decided I needed to bury myself in after a long, long day of putting my grandpa in his grave and helping host the stream of people coming to comfort us all. My girlfriend and I were the last customers there, and they were wonderfully gracious about it.
It felt natural to me that to be generous on an insane day like that, in thanks for the great service, to honor my grandpa, in memory of long-ago days when I also had had long days as a server and had wanted to finish my day and go home, would make me feel better and be well-deserved. I gave our server a very generous tip, and once he came to collect it, I got ready to go. I heard him discover the tip with his companions, and it made me smile to know that on such a day, one person at least was joyous through such a simple act as giving.
What really struck me though was that that wasn't the end. The server ran out of the back of the restaurant as we were about to walk out with an enormous piece of the house special cake, a pineapple-upside down cake with real whipped cream and a generous dusting of cinnamon. He insisted that his manager had wished us to enjoy it.
I was stunned. In all the years I've occasionally popped in there while visiting my mom, they hadn't made it a policy to give away luscious desserts. Certainly, I hadn't given the tip with any hopes of gaining anything myself. And, oh, how I was stuffed from the meal. I took one bite of the thank you cake to be polite, and asked the kind server to wrap up the rest so I could enjoy it later (and did I ever). I went again later in the week for more lamb chops with my mom.
There's a lesson there in giving, in what giving gives you, in stewardship, in the potential lifetime value of those that give, all from the seat of emotional, irrational giving. I think I'll step back and let the story stand on its own and simply take this moment to thank you, my noble readers, for the tremendous outpouring of support and comfort in this difficult time. Knowing that there are so many people out there that are thinking of me is part of what is making it possible to get back to an even-keel. Know that you are deeply appreciated.
But don't worry, I don't expect pineapple upside-down cake from each of you.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Grandpa
My grandpa passed away last night. I don't know that I can extract a good enough narrative right now that's pertinent to arts management or fundraising that would do him and the blog justice, so suffice it to say that without him, I would not be who I am today and that I need some time to process so posting may or may not be lighter than usual for a week or so. Thank you to those who have already reached out via Twitter or Facebook to give your support. Telling stories of your grandparents in the comments to honor grandparents everywhere is highly encouraged.
Labels:
admin
Friday, March 11, 2011
Calling all angels
The argument about "models" is a little ridiculous. Finding a new model isn't as easy as getting a bunch of smart people sitting around thinking about it. Models are largely set by our environment. You have the nonprofit model, the L3C model, the for-profit model... and other than a few variations in the for-profit model (sole proprietor/S corp/LLC/etc.), that's about it.
What you do with those models though is a whole different story.
Producing arts organizations work well in the nonprofit model for a variety of reasons, most especially because it offers the advantage of letting patrons reward organizations for their value on a very individual level through donations while still ostensibly offering the greatest access to the art possible. It should let arts organizations take more risks. It takes the pressure off of commercial viability and instead should reward quality of artistic pursuit. In practice, it doesn't work that way, but I attribute that to the players in the system, not the model itself.
By contrast, a presenting house may actually benefit from an L3C "low-profit" model, letting it apply for grants but also maintaining a commercial interest. A lone artist or craftsman can easily work as a sole proprietor for ease or as an LLC for a little legal protection as they're unlikely to be receiving foundation grants or donations anyways and are dependent almost solely on the sale of their work.
But how do we change the way we use these models most effectively is the truly interesting concept and the place where innovation can happen. In my case, I'm obviously most interested in the nonprofit model though I think L3C presenting houses are a fascinating idea in conjunction with Travis Bedard's #neverbedark concept (which is just as it sounds really - partner with other organizations and always have shows going).
What I would like to see formed as a start are angel donor communities, much like the angel investor communities in entrepreneurial circles. I think there would be tremendous value in smart businesspeople coming together to support new companies by evaluating proposals for those companies in advance and providing significant seed money for the fulfillment of those missions that the community would benefit from. Included in that seed money should be money to pay artists, produce shows, pay professional administration for enough time to get at least one show or season or project cycle off the ground and attract community support.
In conjunction with this, I think granting organizations would have a better opportunity to evaluate nascent projects alongside those angel donors and provide support for sustainability in the form of professional development.
It's the start of a thought of how to form a new way of working within the nonprofit model, but I think something like this has a chance to help starting companies find their niche and audience better through professional help, a key ingredient that is missing from today's arts startups and that likely contributes to the supply/demand accusations that we've been discussing these last few months.
Thoughts?
What you do with those models though is a whole different story.
Producing arts organizations work well in the nonprofit model for a variety of reasons, most especially because it offers the advantage of letting patrons reward organizations for their value on a very individual level through donations while still ostensibly offering the greatest access to the art possible. It should let arts organizations take more risks. It takes the pressure off of commercial viability and instead should reward quality of artistic pursuit. In practice, it doesn't work that way, but I attribute that to the players in the system, not the model itself.
By contrast, a presenting house may actually benefit from an L3C "low-profit" model, letting it apply for grants but also maintaining a commercial interest. A lone artist or craftsman can easily work as a sole proprietor for ease or as an LLC for a little legal protection as they're unlikely to be receiving foundation grants or donations anyways and are dependent almost solely on the sale of their work.
But how do we change the way we use these models most effectively is the truly interesting concept and the place where innovation can happen. In my case, I'm obviously most interested in the nonprofit model though I think L3C presenting houses are a fascinating idea in conjunction with Travis Bedard's #neverbedark concept (which is just as it sounds really - partner with other organizations and always have shows going).
What I would like to see formed as a start are angel donor communities, much like the angel investor communities in entrepreneurial circles. I think there would be tremendous value in smart businesspeople coming together to support new companies by evaluating proposals for those companies in advance and providing significant seed money for the fulfillment of those missions that the community would benefit from. Included in that seed money should be money to pay artists, produce shows, pay professional administration for enough time to get at least one show or season or project cycle off the ground and attract community support.
In conjunction with this, I think granting organizations would have a better opportunity to evaluate nascent projects alongside those angel donors and provide support for sustainability in the form of professional development.
It's the start of a thought of how to form a new way of working within the nonprofit model, but I think something like this has a chance to help starting companies find their niche and audience better through professional help, a key ingredient that is missing from today's arts startups and that likely contributes to the supply/demand accusations that we've been discussing these last few months.
Thoughts?
Labels:
community,
funding,
job skills
Friday, March 4, 2011
Sideshow: Bluegrass Romance
I'm a Lady Gaga fan as all good people should be. Seeing the amazing interpretations that have come from her music is inspiring in and of itself. Four hands, one guitar, infinite awesome:
Labels:
sideshow
Welcome home
I'm watching some Top Chef All-Stars on Hulu while getting ready this morning when one of the guest chefs for the elimination challenge from Rao's in New York says "The philosophy of the restaurant is about embracing people, making them feel comfortable, as though they were coming to your own home." Here is a person that understands experience management at his very core.
Take a step back for a moment and look at trends of the last couple decades. Faith Popcorn warned us in 1991 about the trend of Cocooning that she saw developing. Faith defines this trend as "The need to protect oneself from the harsh, unpredictable realities of the outside world." Curling up at home with a book, playing Rock Band with friends you invite over or even over the internet, Netflix straight to your door... These are the kinds of activities that she forecast back then, and it has largely borne itself out.
This is obviously a huge challenge to arts organizations that require people to leave their cocoons to experience their art. Especially for arts groups that challenge people with harsh and unpredictable realities!
The idea of thinking of your theater or opera or dance or music experience like inviting your patrons to your home is ideal. This is relationship-making at its best. It's making your arts experience a home away from home, reducing the barriers to getting people to come out and relish the experience.
How do you welcome guests when they come to your door? How do you make them comfortable during the evening? Is there a special little touch you can do that will help them remember the evening that has nothing to do with the main event? Are you and your fellow hosts smiling at all times?
It's a great paradigm for how to treat our patrons. This is how you gain close friends, and it's also how you gain loyal patrons that become donors.
And now I'm also really hungry thinking about it...
[picture credit: http://www.raos.com/raos-restaurant-new-york.aspx]
Take a step back for a moment and look at trends of the last couple decades. Faith Popcorn warned us in 1991 about the trend of Cocooning that she saw developing. Faith defines this trend as "The need to protect oneself from the harsh, unpredictable realities of the outside world." Curling up at home with a book, playing Rock Band with friends you invite over or even over the internet, Netflix straight to your door... These are the kinds of activities that she forecast back then, and it has largely borne itself out.
This is obviously a huge challenge to arts organizations that require people to leave their cocoons to experience their art. Especially for arts groups that challenge people with harsh and unpredictable realities!
The idea of thinking of your theater or opera or dance or music experience like inviting your patrons to your home is ideal. This is relationship-making at its best. It's making your arts experience a home away from home, reducing the barriers to getting people to come out and relish the experience.
How do you welcome guests when they come to your door? How do you make them comfortable during the evening? Is there a special little touch you can do that will help them remember the evening that has nothing to do with the main event? Are you and your fellow hosts smiling at all times?
It's a great paradigm for how to treat our patrons. This is how you gain close friends, and it's also how you gain loyal patrons that become donors.
And now I'm also really hungry thinking about it...
[picture credit: http://www.raos.com/raos-restaurant-new-york.aspx]
Labels:
experience management
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