I think I’ve come up with a plausible explanation for some (seemingly) anomalous arts marketing data. I think there are two plausible and useful conclusions to draw from this explanation.
Back in March 2009, I posted a summary of an arts market research project I undertook for a friend back in New Zealand. You can find the post here. One of the conclusions I drew from the research sparked some worthy debate. The relevant paragraph is:
“Generally-speaking, most people who attend an event will report that they enjoyed themselves and (this next point may break the hearts of a few artists) people very often assess the quality of a show based on its set design, costumes, lighting, and props. In other words, audiences are easily pleased and are even more easily pleased if they see the performing arts equivalent of bling.”
The very good news is that most people who make it to a show will report they enjoyed themselves; the surprising news, however, is that they will often make sense of this enjoyment with reference to the production values of a show — what I call the show’s bling.
Why is this second claim surprising? From a theatre perspective, this claim is surprising because the essential elements of fine theatre are a fine script (whether it exists on paper or not) and fine acting. Certainly, bling can add or detract from a production but it is hardly essential. I’m sure something roughly equivalent can be said of all the performing arts.
So why are audiences more likely to talk about the bling when they enjoy a particular performance? My theory: bling is easy to talk about and we all feel confident talking about it.
First off, even for seasoned practitioners, it is sometimes difficult to articulate why a particular instance of theatre has a successful script and fine acting — especially in the sometimes ineffable aftermath of a stunning show. There is no single formula or conceptual framework which will always explain why some particular script or performance is good and, for this reason, there is no easy answer to the question, “why was it so good?”
Second, persons in the performing arts have a well-deserved reputation for snobby cliquishness and many of us find it easier to be critical than positive. Too often, theatre-insiders assess all the theatre we see based on our unique vision of theatre and ostracize and alienate people for not assessing theatre in the same light. Because I know plenty of theatre people who won’t talk publicly about theatre because of this social dynamic, it isn’t too difficult to imagine the chilling effect it would have on people who feel outside their element in a theatre.
Third, whether or not something looks good and is functional is pretty easy to articulate. I also think most people are confident about expressing an opinion on such matters.
Fourth, attention to the material details in all walks of life is a pretty consistent indicator of quality. Needless to say, this phenomenon can be exploited but, more often than not, bling qua bling is often correlated with quality.
So, if we begin with the almost necessary esotericism of aesthetic analysis, mix in the vortex of insecurity and social ostracization, and top with a dollop of “path of least resistance”, it is not difficult to imagine the mild-mannered audience member leaving a show and choosing to articulate their enjoyment in terms of “bling” especially when confronted with a market survey.
For marketers and producers of theatre, whether or not my explanation of this phenomenon is correct, the sheer fact that people are more likely to talk about bling than other elements of a production is important. Our goal is to produce theatre that people talk about and, if people talk about bling, then we should give them as much bling as possible to talk about.
Now, remember, bling comes in many shapes and sizes and doesn’t necessarily entail on-stage helicopters or dazzling pyrotechnics. For every aesthetic, budget, and market there is “bling” to be found. Find it, provide it, and people will likely talk about it because it is easy to do so. Heck, it can be as easy and low cost as as a personal greeting from the performer and a glass of bubbly, for example. If you are not prepared to go that extra mile and get, say, good suits when the script demands it, why should the audience go that extra mile and talk about your show.
As a community, I think the plausibility of my explanation also indicates that we theatre-folk need to be more respectful members of the audience. I think we can do this by making a greater effort to identify and discuss what we respect and admire in a show rather than what we disrespect and dislike and strive to do so in an accessible, non-technical, and non-esoteric fashion.
Furthermore, we should assess each performance we see based on its own internal logic or aesthetic even if it is not a logic or aesthetic we necessarily share. A theatre community will thrive only if a wide variety of different kinds of high quality theatre are made. Attacking a successful piece of theatre and an admirer of it simply because it isn’t the kind of theatre we’d make is of no help to anyone.
If we all adopt this approach, I think non-practitioners may eventually feel more comfortable discussing more challenging aspects of a production in a respectful and informed manner. In other words, we should lead by example.
Finally, I guarantee if we go into shows looking for reasons to admire and respect them, we will have a much more enjoyable experience, even if they don’t mirror our own personal vision of theatre. After all, that’s one reason positive word of mouth is such a valuable asset. Most people who enter a show expecting to see a good show will, in fact, see a good show — unless they are motivated by other considerations such as unreasonable expectations, professional envy, or aesthetically-motivated identity politics.
Thoughts? Additions? Other lessons?
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