The good, the bad, and the ugly

“Cut backs.”

“Tough choices.”

“Time to tighten our belt.”

“Not what we projected.”

These are the phrases most of us have heard all too frequently in the arts world in the past few months. Like the rest of the country, our nonprofit community seems to be under economic assault. Theaters on furlough, galleries closing, shows cancelled, programming cut, staff laid off. Some of these pressures and concerns seem familiar, but some are unknown. And that uncertainty is driving distressing and brutal choices for many of us. Indeed, it is a “bad” time, maybe even “ugly.” But surely there is “good” to be found. As the great Leonard Cohen says, “There is a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in.”

Our industry is better able than most to think outside the box. Being nimble, flexible and responsive is our modus operandi. Those attributes will serve us well and must be kept at the forefront of our decision making in the months to come.

The bad
One of my colleagues calls the current situation “the perfect storm,” pointing to the worst economy since the Great Depression, an abundant inventory of seats available for patrons with less discretionary income, and declining contributions from individuals, corporations and foundations.

Many of us have seen bad times before in the form of recessions, discontinuation of corporate support for the arts, state cuts to arts funding, and soft ticket sales—but perhaps we’ve never quite seen all of these at the same time or at such a profound level.

Those of us in marketing are also living with the “bad” of reaching audiences in an increasingly busy, noisy, crowded world. We know our traditional methods don’t work as well as they once did. We know fewer people are reading daily newspapers, which have been reliable carriers of arts news and producers of audiences. A New York Times reporter recently admitted in his commentary that a glowing movie review doesn’t mean nearly as much as it once did. On top of that, rapidly declining advertising revenues are threatening even the most stable of news sources. Indeed, The New York Times has borrowed against the value of its own building to contend with a major dip in advertising. Declining advertising means shrinking papers with less space for arts coverage.

While we search for new ways to attract arts audiences, ever-leaner budgets threaten our ability to keep pace with the technology that may well influence our future success. We build Facebook sites that we don’t have time to monitor or assess. Our Web sites need continual updating but we lack the funds to do so. The growing blogosphere demands the attention of staffs who are already stretched thin.

The ugly
Nearly half of the shows on Broadway will close by the end of January. A recent analysis of Nutcrackers nationwide revealed a sharp drop in ticket sales during the 2008 holiday season. We know that previous hit shows locally did not sell as well this year. Even the Vikings struggled to sell tickets to their first playoff game in years. When even our most populist shows fail, what are we to do? There may be many reasons for these sagging sales, but few doubt that the ticket buying public is tenuous, cautious—and perhaps choosing to stay home.

Year-end contributions also point to an ugly situation. Many arts organizations are reporting a drop in donors or similar numbers of people giving but at lower levels. With pressure to fund vital social services and education, it’s all too easy for arts organizations to slip into that “maybe” or “not life-threatening” pile.

Perhaps one of the ugliest consequences of this recession is that more is being asked of staffs that have already been cut back. Not only is burnout a serious issue, but also this overworked, underpaid arts world is less attractive for young workers or those considering a move from the for-profit sector.

The good
As a transplant to the Twin Cities, I have been in awe of this community’s support of the nonprofit sector. The cultural roots here are deep and strongly held, resulting in amazing talent on our stages, in our rehearsal halls, and in the behind-the-scenes operations.

I also know that our nonprofits on a daily basis exhibit the creativity and tenacity to survive during rough times. I often tell colleagues in the for-profit world that if they want smart, inventive people with strong work ethics, the nonprofits are the place to look. Slackers are weeded out quickly! The fact our industry contains so many committed, creative minds is a good indicator of our ability to find solutions during these turbulent days.

In the areas in which my firm works—strategic planning, marketing, communications, and media relations—we do see opportunity. These times are forcing vital reassessments of our operations, our structures, and, most importantly, our relationships with artists, audiences, and contributors. While ticket discounting may be with us for a while and contributions may take a dip, our relationships—our connections—are what will sustain us. And we’re lucky, because our art is built upon connection. That’s what we do: connect ideas and issues with the hearts and minds of our constituencies.

Our task therefore is to build deeper relationships that are based on experiences that authentically speak to the desires of our audiences. We cannot rely on an outdated model of asking for attendance and support based upon our need. Rather we must build value in return for our patrons’ financial investment.

Perhaps the biggest “good” we see emerging in these changing times is this focus on who we serve—and why. That type of clear vision is crucial if arts organizations are to survive this “perfect storm.” With that meaningful vision in hand, we have ever-increasing ways to create direct relationships with our audiences. We have only to look to the power of new technology for proof: e-communications, online broadcasting, webcasts, new-media outlets, audience research, and, importantly, two-way communication with audiences offer new promise for participation in the arts.

We need to be painfully honest about our current status and the economic times ahead. This is a time for realism. But it also is a time for action. It is incumbent upon us to make a clear and compelling case for what we do and to make certain what we do connects meaningfully with our audiences and donors. ❦