Coughing Audiences – Attention Deficiency or Act of Defiance?

The rudeness and inconsiderate nature of some classical music audiences never ceases to amaze me. Whether it is the agonizing  cellophane wrappers being delicately opened with precision, the inerrant cell phone interruptions, such that occurred recently at the New York Philharmonic’s performance, or the need felt by some performance attendees to constantly discuss moment by moment with their neighbor the action occurring onstage, there is one behavior that for me is the most perplexing.  Coughing; Extremely unusual amounts of coughing in audiences.

You might be thinking, “Lighten up.  People cough.  People make involuntary noises.  It’s a fact of life.  Get over it.”  I would answer that with yes, people make involuntary noises, but why do they always seem to happen at the most exposed musical and/or dramatic moments?

The cultural theorist Elias Canetti details in his essay “Crowds and Power” that the act of making noise in spaces deemed worthy of reverence of respect and silence is an indirect way of displaying one’s disapproval, and even defiance of a situation.

Relating this to coughing audiences, New York Times critic, Bernard Holland explains:

It hardly seems logical when you consider that coughing is an involuntary physical response and that only one respiratory misadventure among 2,800 rapt admirers is needed to derail a performance. Yet nightly experience convinces me that somehow, by means of some mute transmission of emotion and evaluation, crowd noise or its lack is music criticism — that chain reactions of coughing, rattling programs and shuffling feet report the circumstances of a boring concert as vividly as any printed review. Silence marks success…Ignorance may have caused this noise, but the need to be recognized and to share is rarely absent. Beneath the heedless listener, in other words, hides the listener as rival: a grudging servant, subversive, watchful of opportunity, ready with a cough or a misplaced cheer to encroach on the rituals of silence. This may be the closest music ever gets to religion, or to politics.

There is also a simpler theory; the idea that audiences cough, move and make noise simply for the fact that they are unable to concentrate, and therefore make noise as a nervous reaction to feeling the need to sit still and quiet.  The internet is filled with instances such as this; irritated opera goers, venting their frustrations with disruptive audiences.  As one blogger points out, the legendary tenor, Jon Vickers, even went so far as to break character onstage at a Dallas Opera performance of Tristan und Isolde to tell a coughing audience member to “Shut up with your damn coughing!”  Another blogger more recently reflected after a performance of La Traviata at The Royal Opera House, it was as if Violetta was ironically surrounded by an audience also plagued by consumption.  The same blogger goes on to suggest another theory about why audiences cough.  On the act of coughing, saying,

The short answer is nerves or, more bluntly, a lack of concentration. They feel on edge. The silence and focus required by these performances has a bizarrely reverse effect. Attention is brought back on to uncertain members of the audience and they feel the need to act out. Bronchial emissions are the mid-performance equivalent of the entrance and curtain call applause. We somehow feel bereft when silenced by the very thing that has, supposedly, brought us in the first place.

Having experienced a rather unsettled audience this weekend at a performance of Madame Butterfly, it seemed I was witnessing one of these two theories in action.    The entire performance, all 2 1/2 hours of it, was littered with enough coughing and hacking to fill a doctor office waiting room in the middle of flu season.

One would logically think that if this was just random noise then it would be pretty evenly spread throughout the duration of the evening.  However, this was not the case.  The noise always reached its most heightened and annoying levels during the most quiet, intimate moments.  The famous “Humming Chorus” at the end of Act II, one of the most sublime and peaceful musical moments in opera, was simply awash with fits of hacking and shuffling of programs and feet.  I kept thinking to myself, “Really people?  You ALL couldn’t have waited a couple more minutes to get that out?”  It was as if the mere intimacy of the moment; the utter stillness of it, made people so uncomfortable that they had to make their own noise.

On the other hand…

Was this a secret mutiny?  Was I witness to an unspoken display of defiance and disappointment in the performance via their bronchial gestures of interruption?  It’s hard to say, but my guess is that it had far more to do with many audience’s inability to concentrate, and therefore caused the nervous reaction described previously.  Then again, there were those who certainly we dissatisfied with the performance artistically.  After the performance ended, I overheard an old lady (probably one of the coughing, shuffling, cough-drop openers), complaining to someone from the staff that this Butterfly was, “disgraceful”, and “overly Americanized.”  Whatever that means.  Was she one of the ones making noise, but making it as a non-verbal display of her disapproval for what she was witnessing?

All in all, it seems there is some credibility to my observation that people tend to cough and make more noise when it is most noticeable in a performance.  And, it seems there are many others who have written on this subject who also see the patterns.  There is definitely psychologically and even sociologically happening in certain audiences that causes this behavior.  It certainly would make for an interesting sociological study.

So, is coughing and noise making in performances an act of defiance, or simply a display of one’s inability to remain concentrated and engaged.  I assume it’s probably some combination of both, with more weight placed on the latter.  If only to be in grad school again and have the countless hours to research such a topic!

Reflection on my Master’s Thesis – in short, opera companies are still struggling to relate culturally

It has been over a year since I first began writing my thesis, and about nine months since I completed it.  When I first began this daunting assignment, I made this post as a way to “kick-off” the whole process and mark an official start date.

As I delved into the research, I began to wonder how American cultural history affected the trajectory opera took in America and where it finds itself today.  The thought behind all of my research became, “How did this, or does this, affect how opera was/is experienced and/or perceived by the audiences?”  Exploring the issue from this perspective allowed me to go deeper into the various social factors surrounding the art form, and how they influenced what the art form was and what it became in America.

It is amazing how much has changed in my life since its completion.  I now work full time in artistic administration for an opera company, and get to see day to day the theories of my thesis in action – both for good and for bad.  What’s most interesting, is that my opinions about opera companies and opera in America have changed very little over the course of time that has elapsed.

A year ago, I had only ever been an intern in opera.  Now I am fully employed in opera, and even more terrifying, I’m partly responsible for my companies future. I did have some doubts throughout the course of my writing that, perhaps, I was being a bit too idealistic with my arguments, and even maybe a little naive.  However, when I read back through it today, and I think about the problems I face daily, much of what I wrote still rings true for me.

You can read the full thesis as a Google Doc.

Here is the unabridged conclusion to my research…

CONCLUSION

            “What you need to know about the past is that no matter what has happened, it has all worked together to bring you to this very moment.  And this is the moment you can choose to make everything new.  Right now.” – Author Unknown

 To be certain, opera’s relationship to the American audience has, over the course of history, proven as nuanced and varied as America’s cultural fabric.  The numerous angles and side-stories one could take on the subject of opera’s cultural history in America, and how they have contributed to opera’s current place in society, could easily fill volumes.  As such, it has been the attempt of this work to present this story as concisely as possible, while offering examples and addressing all the requisite areas.  The preceding body of work is by no means a comprehensive study of all the varying topics addressed herein, but rather is intended to paint a picture of the author’s interpretation of the literature, and how he relates these many unrelated areas into one cohesive theory.

Opera, both as an art form and institution, is at an interesting crossroads in its history.  The culmination of all the arguments herein were to show that opera has been a heavily centralized and controlled cultural form for at least the last 150 years in this country.  There have been elements and moments where it waxed and waned in and out of popular demand, but for the most part, it has remained a significantly segregated art form in terms of to whom it appeals.

Faced now with the inevitable realities of the current cultural changes, opera is trying to adopt a more de-centralized cultural mindset.  In a way, it is trying to revert to the creative spontaneity allowed many decades ago.  Now, however, it is being done in the context of a society that is, for the most part, hard to please, not very patient, and not nearly as musically understanding as it once was.  These are uncharted waters not only for opera, but all the classical arts.  The formulas used in the past to appeal to audiences no longer work as well, in part, because they were created for a culture that no longer exists; for a society that no longer views music and entertainment the same way.

As discussed herein, opera’s cultural history in America, along with the influences of shifting musical tastes, shifting attitudes about “who” and “what” determine culture and relationships with technology, have shaped the general American perception of the art form.  Additionally, and to a certain degree consequentially, there are multiple perceived threats to opera’s future in this country. Many of these perceived threats are a by-product of the American cultural relationship with art, as well as the previously described changes in society that have affected perceptions of the art form.

In the series of interviews conducted for this thesis, each interviewee was asked the same question at the end of the interview: “What is the biggest threat to opera’s survival as an art form in the United States?”  The answers were varied and included things like, “Ambivalence”, “Remaining relevant”, “Complacency”, “The Internet”, “Short Attention Spans”, “Money”, “over-corporatization of the art form”, “demise of arts education”, “trying to capture or affix what opera ‘is’ or ‘should be’”, and “poor business model”.  One person even insisted that the incessant negative focus by many on the idea that opera and classical music have an inherent problem culturally would in fact eventually lead to such a demise.  What is consistent is that everyone agrees opera in America faces many challenges now and in the coming years.

As dire as things may appear, however, there is reason to be hopeful.  Opera does not have to end as tragically as most of its stories do.  However, changing opera’s storyline from a negative one to a positive one will depend on opera companies digging down deep, and analyzing their missions, visions, communities, and programming.  For many this will mean drastic change.  For some companies this change, if followed through to complete fruition, would transform those companies into something unrecognizable in comparison to what they are now.  This fact alone is a primary reason why so many companies are holding onto tried and true programming choices.  Immediate survival is the primary concern.  While this is an understandable mindset, it is not sustainable.  Those companies that do not come to terms with the current cultural reality, and how it affects what they do or do not do, will before long cease to exist.

There are equally as many positions one could take on the condition of opera in America, as well as what the answers are to its continued survival.  For some, making the art form as accessible and easy as possible, to as many people as possible, is the answer to opera’s future survival.  For others, opera will never, nor should it try to pander to the masses.  For this latter group, it is opera’s ability to remain artistically true to itself, and allowing for the composer to create, free from influence over the concern for marketability of his or her work, that makes opera and to a larger extent art, special.

Regardless of where one comes down on the “opera for all” versus “opera as niche” argument, there are some hard realities about opera in this country that cannot be refuted.  First, producing opera is likely to only get more expensive, not less.  The rising cost of everything, not just labor, will inevitably affect artistic decisions.  Because of this, opera companies will have to rethink their strategies, not only in terms of how they can produce opera more efficiently, but also in terms of figuring out ways opera can be experienced and thus made a commodity through different communication mediums.

Second, while it has improved in recent decades, the lack of support by opera companies and the opera public for homegrown American opera, is a factor in understanding why opera continues to feel foreign for many Americans.  Organizations like American Opera Projects continue to work tirelessly towards reversing this course of history (American Opera Projects, 2011).  Third, the larger culture in which opera now finds itself is increasingly more and more resistant not only to things perceived as elitist and foreign, but is also averse to activities and forms of entertainment that are both overly complicated and not in alliance with the pervading culture of consumer-oriented marketing and programming.

It is the opinion of this author, supported by numerous leaders in the field, that until opera is valued not merely as a performance spectacle, but also as a respected and valued form of creative expression, it will continue to be viewed in America as nothing more than a social playground for the rich, a “special attraction” for tourists, and a genuine, yet generally misunderstood and disrespected interest of a minority population.

Interestingly, this scenario is acceptable for some people in opera, and actually preferable.  These are the people who say, “better niche than mass appeal” and “better purity than pandering.”  These people would likely accept the state motto of New Hampshire as the motto for opera – “Live free or die.”  They are perfectly content with keeping opera small in the sense of its appeal, and actually revel in the fact they can feel it is their own niche interest, generally unspoiled by the influences of hype, marketing, and popular culture.

How do opera companies reconcile the two schools of thought – to be niche or to be for all?  How does a place like The Metropolitan Opera simultaneously balance being innovative and risky with traditional and safe?  The answer is neither easy nor clear.  What is clear is that Peter Gelb is trying to do something different.  The Met: Live in HD series is not only innovative, but is also re-defining, intentionally or not, how opera is perceived, produced, and experienced.   It is understandable, however, given that the Met relies a considerable amount financially on the support of opera traditionalists, why many long time audience members at the Met do not approve of Gelb’s vision.  That being said, Gelb walks a fine line between boring the innovative mind and deterring the traditional one.  It is a constant balance between the two.  Perhaps, then, the answer is to choose between the two.

There is such a thing as trying to do too much, and spreading oneself too thin.  Opera companies should strategically evaluate what it is they are trying to accomplish artistically, and whether that vision aligns with the interests of their community.  They must figure out how they can offer something in their community that is not already offered, and think creatively about what niche they can fill and that will be compatible with their budgets.  Americans live in a culture of customized experiences and on-demand entertainment.  We more and more rarely experience randomness in our lives. Our lives and our choices increasingly shaped by algorithmic formulas and intelligent databases that gather and categorize our market-profile, in turn allowing companies to market to us with fine-point precision.  Opera companies should take a lesson from this.  Instead of everyone trying to live up to the Met’s standard of grand opera, companies should figure out what they can do best, within their means and with heightened attention paid to strategic audience engagement, and produce opera that uniquely represents them as a company.  The story of Urban Arias is a perfect example of this.

The “opera for all” boat has sailed, and all those it left behind do not seem to care.  As such, continuing to waste resources on generic “outreach programs” that “bring opera to the people,” will only further prove opera’s irrelevance to those the programs are trying to serve.  The more opera is seen by the layperson as something from the past, as an act of recreating art from the past, the more irrelevant it will seem to them.  Furthermore, even with new inventions like HD and the various other technological avenues one can choose to experience opera, opera must move beyond simply presenting the classics.  Even in these new mediums, opera cannot sustain itself as a presenter of relic performance art, even if it is in high-def or 3D.

Instead the keyword should be about creation and showing how opera is not old, but current, alive and new.  Opera must realign itself as a worthy creative endeavor for composers and musicians, while simultaneously present itself in the minds of a new generation as a relevant option for shared artistic experience.  Houston Grand Opera’s HGOco is one example of an opera company that understands the importance of this mindset.  They have realigned their mission so that it truly serves their community.  HGO’s approach to its community positions it not as an entity that exists in Houston and serves a particular group of wealthy people, but an entity that serves all of Houston both through performances in the opera house and creative projects within the greater community at large.

How will we know when these changes have begun to occur?  What will be the cultural signs that the image of opera has begun to change into something more current?  One place to look for these changes are in the images and cultural references generally used to refer to opera.  If one currently searches the word “opera” on Google, a cartoonish image of Brünhilde from Die Walküre is one of the first images to appear.  The fact that this image most highly represent’s the word “opera” on the internet, reflects the reality in modern American society that opera is from the past, foreign, and frankly, quite silly.  If, however, this same search reveals at a point in the future an image of American opera creation, then one can at least have the assurance that the signpost for opera has changed, and likely found a new connection within our complex and varied culture that is America.

Completing a Masters Degree in Arts Management

I write this post on the morning of my graduation day.  I had set my alarm for 9am ( I thought I would “sleep in” today), but I couldn’t sleep past 6:30am.  I suppose the excitement and anticipation were simply too great.

Today, after two years in the making, I will finally graduate from American University with an M.A. in Arts Management.  It certainly has been an interesting two years.  One thing is certain – my experiences were not what I would have predicted two years ago when I was applying for programs.  However, is this not the case with most things in life?  We often expect one thing, yet get another; for better or for worse.

So, let’s get right into it…

First, expectations.  For me, undertaking this degree was a necessary life decision.  Three years ago, I was in a job and career path that I hated.  So, I made a decision while I was still young and unencumbered with obligations, that I would “take the plunge” and go after a life and career that would be personally fulfilling.  Since I approached graduate school with this mindset, I suppose I viewed everything in the beginning with rose colored glasses; everything would peachy keen and perfect.  It was the option that made the most sense, and was the best thing for me to do if I ever wanted the opportunity to work in the arts.

Second, the reality.  But before I get into it, I know what many of you think I’m going to write.  You think I’m about to say, “grad programs in arts management are a waste of money.”; that they are “all fluff”.  Well, you’re wrong.  The truth is, those thoughts have crossed my mind, but they are not the ultimate conclusion about my experience.  It’s a little more complicated than that.  I will say that I do not think a master’s program is for everyone.  If you are thinking about entering into one, I would suggest looking over this rational and frank advice from Yale University professor on what life is like for a graduate student. This website on online masters degrees does a fairly good job as well, explaining what is involved in graduate studies, and also compares traditional masters programs with those offered though online courses. Ultimately, the choice of whether to commit to several more years of college education has to be determined on the individual level. It all depends on one’s prior experience…

Here is what these degree programs CAN do, from my perspective:

• Fast forward your career.  If you are new to the field and/or you are making a career transition, an arts management degree can exponentially increase your professional network, and quick.  The connections I have made within the last two years, and the doors that have opened, would likely have taken twice as long if not longer had I tried to make inroads of my own.  Having the professional backing from the Arts Management program and faculty at American University undoubtedly played a tremendous part in my ability to get great internships and meet great people.

• Lay a solid foundation of the fundamentals.  If, for example, you are ignorant of the role development plays in supporting the larger mission of an arts organization, then an arts management program can teach you.  If you have never written a grant, developed a strategic marketing plan, done prospect research, developed an organization-wide budget, or understood the complexities of the role played by governments, foundations and corporations in the support of arts and culture, then an arts management program can teach you.  You will learn about all these areas, and more.

Here is what the degree CANNOT do for you.  Again, from my perspective:

• Act as a magic bullet.  Like with most things in life, an arts management degree is what you make of it.  By simply enrolling, coming to class, completing assignments on time, writing a Capstone and graduating, you will likely feel at the end of two years that you paid a lot of money to read some books and write papers.  Approaching it in this way will leave you just where you started two years prior, only with head full of new information and a mountain of debt.  One has to be proactive in making the degree bear fruit beyond the ivy walls.  Your career will not flourish just because you attended.

• Add value to an already established arts management career.  I write this last point with some trepidation, as I know it will likely draw flack from “the powers that be”; those powers which depend upon enrollment in such programs for their continued survival.  My own experience has been that those who come to the degree program with a few years of arts management experience under their belt, are likely left feeling under-challenged.  The reason for this is not because what the programs teach is not valuable or correct, but because the perspective from which subjects are taught are often taught from an introductory perspective.  This is fine for people like me; people who are career transitioning or going straight from undergraduate to graduate school.  However, for someone who has worked in the field; who has dealt with boards; who has managed a strategic marketing plan; the academic instruction of these subjects might seem a little too, for lack of a better word, “academic”.

Again, please do not misunderstand my point of view.  I do believe these programs have value.  The question is:  Can they be equally beneficial to all levels of arts management experience?  To be fair, professional degree programs in arts management are young.  As an academic field, arts management is still young.  It is still exploring its surroundings and trying to figure out the world and how it fits into it.  Ultimately, I want arts management programs to offer the most comprehensive, intensive training possible.

For all those considering an arts management degree, my one point of advice would be this:  Asses your experience, assess your goals, both personally and professionally, and then make the decision.  Do not just go to graduate school because it’s what you’re “supposed to do.”  For me, it was the right decision, and I do not regret it.  For others, they may realize too late that it was a waste of time.

In the end, the answer to this intensely personal question is the same answer to most questions in arts management:

“It depends.”

Artistic Discourse is branching out

My poor Artistic Discourse blog has certainly been neglected lately, but the writing and the conversations are still happening.  I have been fortunate enough the last few months to be afforded the opportunity to create content both for the Washington National Opera blog, as well as the Americans for the Arts ARTSblog.  Here is a a little synopsis of what I’ve done this past Fall.

These are all from the last two months at Washington National Opera as part of their new blog:

A Special Thanksgiving Operatic Reprieve

Celebrating 20 Years of Opera Look-In

From Dumbbells to Divas

The Traveling Head of Daniel Sumegi

Salome Staging Rehearsal: An Inside Look

And here are a couple I did earlier this Fall for Americans for the Arts:

Looking Through the Glimmerglass – An Oasis for Young Artist Education

Choral Arts Society of Washington – A Commitment to Arts Education

So as one can see, that writing has been happening, just not here.  Not to mention I just started writing my master’s thesis.  (That’s the last excuse, I promise.)

If the bug catches me, I will certainly produce some more content for Artistic Discouse.  Until then, look for my writings on the two blogs I just mentioned, plus a third one to come this Spring.  I can’t tell where that is just yet, but I’ll be sure to announce it once it is confirmed.

Until then, Happy ChristmaHanuKwanzaakah!

Let the Thesis writing begin!

I can hardly believe I am at that point where I have to ACTUALLY begin my thesis!  Wow, this really snuck up on me fast. So much has changed in a year and half about how I view the arts world.  My interests, though varied, have collected around the topic of opera and classical music.  More specifically, how they will survive and adapt to 21st century culture and technology.  Thus, the topic of my thesis…

My proposal is this:

Ever since Baumol and Bowen wrote in the 1960s about the inherent “cost disease” facing every non-profit arts organization, there has been a lot of focus on how performing arts organizations can increase their revenue, both earned and contributed, to offset this inherent flaw in their business model.  However, there is only so much donor money to go around and only so much ticket prices can go up before you completely isolate a majority of your audience.  With earned revenue still only accounting for approximately 50-60% of income (sometimes even less), and with reports of governments slashing and/or eliminating arts budgets, endowments losing their overall value, and foundations and corporations more heavily scrutinizing their giving, what creative ways are opera companies using to maintain artistic quality while also cutting costs?  Also, what efforts are there to better educate the average opera patron of the inherent flaw in the earned income/cost ratio, and the need for individual giving to sustain the art form?

It’s a daunting subject, but “doable” according to my thesis advisor.  (I have at least one cheerleader!)

I think this topic is valuable to the field of opera.  I have seen a lot recent writing around creative cost-saving measures.  A few examples that come immediately to mind are the use of projections in place of scenery, using the same core set structure for multiple operas in repertoire, the utilization of various social media techniques to take the place of more expensive traditional and expensive marketing campaigns, and the utilization of “demand pricing” – the same way airlines determine ticket prices.

This certainly will be the most daunting writing assignment of my life, but one that I am certain will discover numerous other creative cost saving measures, educate the public, and act as a conversation starter amongst my colleagues in the opera field.

Happy writing!

 

Tribute to Norman Scribner & Choral Arts Society of Washington

I was sad to learn the other day that Norman Scribner will be stepping down in 2012 as Artistic Director of The Choral Arts Society of Washington. After founding the organization 45 years ago, Norman has led it through many a financial crisis and cultural change, present circumstances included.  Since  being at the helm for so long, he has surely affected countless individuals in a positive way.  I am one of those numerous examples.

After beginning my Master’s degree in Arts Management at American University this past fall, Choral Arts Society was my first internship where I worked as a development apprentice.  As far as I’m concerned, it was not only my first internship in D.C., but also my introduction to arts management. 

My sincere gratitude goes out not only to Norman Scribner, but to the Executive Director Debra Kraft for realizing the importance of arts education, both professionaly and elementary.  Supporting arts education in words is one thing, putting money behind it is another.  Norman and Debra have managed to do both, even in hard economic times.  They not only provided a great work environment, but by arts internship standards, paid me a respectable wage and travel stipend.  For a small organization employing around 10 full time employees, that is saying something.  They could have easily cut this line item from their budget and not affected their artistic product one iota, but they didn’t.

As a more public thank you to Norman, Debra, and to Choral Arts for their efforts and consistency in supporting arts education, I will highlight their efforts in an upcoming blog I am writting for the Americans for the Arts ARTSblog as part of their Arts Education Blog Salon, September 13-17th.  This salon will honor National Arts in Education Week, and organizations like Choral Arts that take the importance of arts education seriously.

Thank you, Norman, for all that you have done to establish a solid foundation from which Choral Arts can continue to be a great place to work, a great asset to the D.C. community and an important cultural institution.

Rural Opera in Upstate NY

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I am spending the summer as the artistic intern at Glimmerglass Opera.  To recap, Glimmerglass is a summer-only opera company.  Nestled in the remote wildnerness just outside Cooperstown, New York, the company annually presents innovative and new stagings, as well as rarely performed operas.  A significant aspect of their artistic talent is comprised from members of the their Young American Artist Program (YAAP).  This program annually brings in the best of new U.S. talent.

This season’s Young Artists, or “YAAPs” as they are lovingly referred to within the company, arrived just this week.  This year there is a larger than usual number; 36 singers and 2 coaches/accompanists.  They come from all different parts of the country, with varying educational and experiential backgrounds.  The one thing that unifies them all is that they are the few chosen from an applicant pool of over 800.  In other words, their damn good at what they do.

So what of the title of this post?  What is “Opera- a rural setting” referring to?  Well, for anyone who knows the geographical area Glimmerglass is situated, they will know what I’m talking about.  To put it into perspective, the closest Walmart is 45 minutes away. There are little to no streetlights on any of the streets.  Most of the buildings one sees while driving are barns.  Even the Alice Busch Opera Theater of Glimmerglass resembles a barn.

Alice Busch Opera Theater

One could count enough wildlife on a daily basis to start their own petting zoo…. You get the picture.  So this ultimately begs the question – “Why start an opera company out in the middle of nowhere?” And furthermore, “Who is going to come to the middle of nowhere to see opera?”

I ask myself this question everyday. These questions especially come to mind when I drive the 16 miles from my residence to the opera offices, and pass road signs indicating “Cow Crossing”, “Tractor Crossing” and the rarely seen horse and cart sign indicating “Amish Horse & Cart”.  With all these speciality signs one is accustomed to seeing on country roads, it only seems fitting for the opera to have their very own “Opera Crossing” sign.  It sits about 100 yards before the entrance to Glimmerglass Opera facilities.

Opera Crossing

At first mention, it seems like creating an opera company in the middle of nowhere would be a colossal waste of time, energy and money.  However, Glimmerglass must obviously be doing something right.  As a company, they have been in existence since 1975, and their Young American Artist Program since 1988.  They have continued to garner support over the years from some of the most well respected names in opera direction, conducting, and singing.  Most recently, it was announced that come September 2010, Glimmerglass will come under the general and artistic leadership of renowned opera director Francesca Zambello.

In my short time here, I have noticed one thing in particular that Glimmerglass does differently than most other opera companies. The difference rests in the way the company utilizes and incorporates the resources of its community.  Virtually all of the rehearsal and coaching spaces are venues within the local community that have either been rented or donated to the opera.  Many of the opera choruses are comprised of local singers.  Teachers are invited to bring their classes to tour the facilities and incorporate learning about opera into their lesson plans.  The examples could go on and on, but in the interest of time and your patience, I won’t.

One last item.  I think localizing art, engaging communities, and utilizing local facilities is one of the tenets to a a successful future for opera, and classical art forms alike.  As they say, “all politics are local”.  Well, in a culture where seeing is believing, maybe having people SEE art and artists engaging their community and its resources is part of the answer to the question of how we build support, respect and value for the arts within out communities and our country as a whole.  I hope to touch on this notion of greater localization of opera companies in a future post.  Happily, seeing what I’ve seen so far, I think Glimmerglass Opera is a prime example of an organization that presents world-class talent in an accessible and intimate setting fit for its community.

Modern Music: intellectual challenge or intellectual bore? – depends on the ear

Last night saw the end of John Adams’ first week as guest conductor for the National Symphony Orchestra. It was the start of his two week guest conducting run with the NSO, and it has been “highly anticipated” by many in the community. Maybe this is why I received an offer for $29 premium orchestra seats. Highly anticipated, or highly undersold?
All cheap shots aside, I do like Adams’ work for the most part, especially his opera Nixon in China, so I for one was looking forward to the experience. The program consisted of works by Copland, Adams, Elgar and Barber.

The first half started with Copland’s “Billy the Kid Suite”, followed by a piece by Adams based on a poem by Walt Whitman called “The Wound Dresser” featuring baritone, Eric Owens, who Adams also cast in his most recent opera, Dr. Atomic. The second half began with the highly recognizable and hauntingly emotive “Adagio for Strings”, by Samuel Barber. This was followed by Elgar’s “Enigma Variations”. The “Adagio” and parts of the “Enigma Variations” notwithstanding, I was not highly impressed.

I listen to this kind of music all the time. By “this kind of music” I mean orchestral, classical, symphonic.. whatever you want to call it, music. All eras;  all composers. I don’t discriminate. So, I always think, if my highly committed musical ear is struggling to hear harmonies and find context and meaning, I can only imagine what the average listener must be thinking.  This was the case for Adams’ piece, “The Wound Dresser”.

The piece was set around a poem Walt Whitman wrote towards the end of his life.  It reflects on his time during the Civil War when he helped care the thousands of wounded Union soldiers on what is now the National Mall.  This large piece of land in Washington, D.C. was used at the time as a makeshift medical station, and the sanitary conditions were so awful many of the soldiers died not from their wounds but from infection.  Whitman was so touched by his experience, and so loved these men he cared for, that he wrote “The Wound Dresser”.

Clearly, the emotional story is there within Whitman’s poetry, and could lend perfectly to a musical setting.  However, I am not entirely pleased with how Adams’ constructed the music around the words.  The music is definitely Adams’.  One can hear that immediately.  And there were moments where I felt, “Yes, that harmonic structure matches that emotion in the text.”, but the majority of the time, I felt the text’s meaning was lost in the tonal clusters and complex textures of a highly talented composer.  The words spoke of guttural, raw emotions and ugly situations, yet I did not feel those emotions from the music most of the time.

Most interesting for me was what my friend who accompanied me said afterwards.  When I asked him what he thought of the Adams’ piece, he simply said, “I didn’t get it.”.  I think that sentiment speaks to what most average or occasional classical music listeners think when they hear many works by modern composers.  The composer’s intent is lost in the over complexity of his/her work.  Is tonal complexity necessary nowadays in order to be respected as a musician?  Maybe I should rephrase that… is tonal complexity necessary in order to be respected BY musicians???  Are composers trying to create pieces that they find intellectually challenging or that appeal to average auditory experience?

Year one complete – commence with summer opera extravaganza!

A little over a year ago, I began this blog in an effort to better prepare myself for my leap into graduate studies in the Arts Management at American University.  Well, as the idiom goes, “Time flies when you’re having fun.” Okay, it’s either that one or the one that goes, “The older you get, the faster time goes.” I’m not really sure, but I like to think it’s the former.  Either way, last week I completed my first year of the program, quite successfully I might add, and now begin the summer and my adventures into the world of opera festivals at the Glimmerglass Opera festival in Cooperstown, New York.

A few months ago, I happily accepted a three month stint as an arts administration intern at Glimmerglass.  I wasn’t terribly familiar with the festival prior to applying, not mention Cooperstown.  However, the opportunity came highly recommended by a friend of mine who did the internship last summer and absolutely loved it.  Despite what the surveys say, my interest in opera has only increased over the last few years, so I thought this would be a great opportunity to break into this field I find so fascinating. In all honesty, however, my first exposure to Cooperstown was the movie “A League of Their Own“; Gina Davis, Madonna and Rosie O’Donnell included.

Upon further research, I learned that every summer the sleepy little town of Cooperstown, (population of just over 2,000 and home of the Baseball Hall of Fame), becomes a northeast retreat destination for opera lovers.  Staging four operas each summer, many of which are original productions, Glimmerglass prides itself in being a well respected venue not only for great opera, but also for helping to develop the future of opera with its Young American Artists Program.

Alice Busch Opera Theater - Cooperstown, NY

This summer’s productions include Tosca, The Marriage of Figaro, The Tenderland, and the U.S. professional premiere of Handel’s Tolomeo.  I am particularly excited about the opportunity of working on the Tolomeo premiere.  It is not everyday one can say they have worked on a premiere.  Certainly, I will blog about this and all my interesting experiences this summer, time permitting, of course.  However, I will be careful and mindful not to have any Leonard Slatkin blogging moments like he did with the Met this past Spring.

On a side note, I have also been asked to guest blog for the Americans for the Arts blog, Artsblog.  Sign-up and be part of the Artsblog conversation.  Look for my posts on there in the coming two weeks.

Bravo to a great first year!  Next stop, Cooperstown.

Arts Advocacy Day 2010 – recap and reflections

I realize a posting at this point about Arts Advocacy Day is about a week and a half too late, but I’m in graduate school, cut me some slack.

This year I attended my first Arts Advocacy Day, and helped represent the delegation from Virginians for the Arts.  Every year, Americans for the Arts (AFTA) spends two days “rallying the troops” in an effort to convince our Representatives in Congress that yes, the arts DO matter for many reasons, and yes, they DO deserve public funding.  This year’s special guests included actors Jeff Daniels and Kyle MacLachlan, OVATION CEO Charles Segars, NEA Chair Rocco Landesman, and various well known Congressman such as Rep. John Lewis,  Rep. Louise Slaughter, and Rep. Jim Moran (my representative), who chairs the House Appropriations Subcommittee on the Interior and the Environment that decides NEA appropriations .  Even the ol’ battle-ax herself, Nancy Pelosi, still reeling off her victory in the health care reform battle, took time from her busy schedule to address the group of us supportive arts advocates and to accept the AFTA Arts Leadership Award.

After the first day of meeting and getting to know our delegation, familiarizing ourselves with the facts and figures and going through a crash course in “Lobbying 101″, I found myself the second day walking the halls of Congress eager and ready.  I will admit, it is a touch intimidating, walking those halls and passing doors reading “John Kerry”, “John McCain”, ” Joseph Libermann”, and knowing that you’re playing with the big boys now.  Being from Virginia I met with my district representative, Jim Moran, as well as various other State Representatives, including the now infamous Minority Whip, Eric Cantor.  Eric Cantor by the way has a an F score from Americans for the Arts, i.e., he votes against every bill that in any way would have supported arts related initiatives.  My delegation also met with the offices of both senators from Virginia, Jim Webb and John Warner.

Okay, some observations:

Who you meet with shows your issues’ importance to that representative’s agenda – I realize members of Congress are busy people, but this was a highly scheduled and planned lobbying day, and not ONE representative met with us personally.  Instead, we met with a member of their staff.  What got really interesting was breaking this down even further by seeing what level staffer we were relegated to.  In the case of generally supportive Congressman, i.e., every Democrat we met with, we were received by usually no less than their primary legislative aide.  In the case of Eric Cantor’s office, (remember, he gets an F), our entire delegation of six pitched arguments, facts and figures to someone who amounted no more than the secretary.  Would it surprise anyone if I told you his office had Fox News on the television?

Support for the arts was argued based on extrinsic value indicators – A review of the Arts Advocacy Day handbook provided to each delegate contained a plethora of facts and figures about the economic impact of the arts, as well as numerous other charts and graphs showing ways in which the arts and “creative industries”(buzz word), all impact the economy.  Now, I’m not stupid.  I get why we’re going for the economic angle.  In obvious times of economic hardship, it is important to show how government subsidy can support an industry, but  also how that industry can bring money back to the government.  Our argument is that the arts and creative industries do that exceptionally well.  Naturally, there are facts and figures used to support this, but I don’t want break up my writing flow with that.  If you want to read for yourself, you can find the info here.

While understanding one’s audience is key to an effective argument, I wonder, are we trying to “sell” the arts based on external effects caused by arts activity?  In other words, by arguing for the extrinsic benefit of the arts, are we taking something away from their intrinsic value, and thus further relegating art and artists into just another profession like steel workers who make a product for consumption?  Call me idealist or naive, but I really think the arts and the experiences and emotional connections they afford people are worth more in “social capital” than they could EVER be worth in “monetary capital”.  But then again, I recognize who my audience is and what the political climate calls for right now.  Thus, the appropriate buzz words must be used in order to be heard.

Even with all the facts and figures in the world showing the economic impact of the arts and their seven-fold return in tax revenue to the government, there will always be those who just don’t get.  After my long day on the Hill, and promoting these figures ad nauseum, I came home to see this video on my local evening news and literally wanted to throw something at the t.v.  I understand there are those who take issue with government funding of ANYTHING non-military.  For those people, I choose to count my losses and realize convincing them is a waste of time.  However, for those who do believe domestic government funding can be effective, I ask why more support for the arts is not there.  Why is it that an Urban Institute Study surveyed Americans to find that they hold art in high regard, while at the same time do not see its public benefit?  This “American paradox” as it was aptly called in the study is quite perplexing and what, I believe, lies at the root of our public art funding dilemma.  Americans simply have a disconnect between art as entertainment that they want to consume, and art as facilitator of expression, personality, education, well-being, community, etc., etc., etc.,

It is at this point I shake my head and wonder, will Americans ever have the kind of public support seen in Finland or Germany?  But then I also wonder, is public funding the answer to the current problems facing the arts? Aside from funding issues, will increases in government funding make classical music “popular”, opera accessible, and modern art palatable?  Sadly, I believe the answer is no.  The problem with the arts in America goes well beyond the problem of money.  It is a matter of education and cultural relevance.  Arts education is increasingly being cut from our schools and thus not exposing kids to art at an age when they are most impressionable.  Culturally, arts organizations are struggling every day to remain relevant in a world where art is just one “app” or “I-pad” away.

The current situation is bleak.  The challenge we face as educators, arts administrators and policy makers is daunting.  Yet, I remain optimistic.