Tynan's Anger

How America Failed Theater: A capitalist marketing perspective on theater's socioeconomic role in American life.

In case you're not convinced that it's essentially impossible to make money as a theater blogger, try this experiment. First, watch this video by online media guru Gary Vaynerchuk:




Now, take Gary V's suggestion and apply it to theater blogging. First, google "theater" and see what Google Adwords come up with. You'll likely get a lot of results on movie theaters or home theaters; perhaps the term is too general. So search for New York theater. When you do this, you'll get a lot of websites of individual theaters themselves, and maybe a few other publications. Search for "regional theater," and you'll get the same, as you probably will for any city you happen to live in. The only other results I got were for vacation and ticket services. This is probably the best option for advertising, but keep in mind the majority of the desired audience of these sites are out-of-towners whose interest in theater doesn't go all that far out of The Little Mermaid or Wicked. They're not going to be all that interested in your Brechtian analysis of some way off-off-Broadway show.

In Gary V's video, the way to make money off your blog is to call up these people and get them to advertise on your blog. Of course, most theater people are introverts, and get clamped up at the prospect of cold calling. But besides that, if you're focus is being critical and editorial, there's simply no way you can court advertisements from individual theaters and claim to have independent critical judgment. If you were going to get advertising from these sources, you'd need someone else who works on your website for strictly advertising purposes. For smaller theater publications, and especially theater blogs, that's a virtual impossibility. Even if you could get someone to do it, the amount of time you'd need to invest wouldn't be worth the minimal results you'd probably get.

From a marketing perspective, it shows the limits of niche marketing, even though theater isn't by any means the smallest niche to try to make a profit. Within the theatrical community, however, there are two main factors keeping these kind of marketing strategies from succeeding. For one, theater is based more around a sense of community. Any show produced or artist supported by a theater is seen as more of a means of adding something to the theatrical discussion. Unless you're making something like The Little Mermaid, it is not seen primarily as a revenue stream (even if profit is still in the back of your mind).

Secondly, in the case of individual theaters as possible advertisers, it is impossible to extract the product of the theater (be it talent, show, or community) from the theater that's producing it. If you're selling beer, you're almost always selling someone else's beer. From a business perspective, you have no emotional attachment to the brand of beer you're selling, even if you have a weird beer specialty market. In theater, the product your selling is inherently produced by your own personal labor and belongs to the individual laborers who produce it. Do you know anyone who buys Budweiser from Anheuser-Busch directly? Or for an off-off Broadway parallel, you can't even buy Summit Ale from the Summit Brewing Company online store.

In How Theater Failed America, Mike Daisey spoke of contemporary American theater submitting to the American capitalistic system of constant competition, fear of failure, and an artistically counterproductive need to make theater marketable to a stable audience. Tom Stoppard spoke of this just last night. Tony Adams recently talked about how theater don't focus on content anymore. Scott Walters has fought for artistic emphasis constantly. The consensus seems to be that this is a recent, troublesome development. Daisey suggested that a better title for his show would have been "How Theater Became America."

Yet, from the capitalistic perspective that these sources lament, the Gary Vaynerchuks of the world, theater is still a hopelessly unmarketable faux-commodity, one that flies in the face of long-term financial stability, and maintains a system of ethics entirely outside of that of American capitalism. From this perspective, theater still seems like something you do in spite of your desire to make a living. Whether it be theater's Marxist heritage or the nature of the artistic endeavor in general, success in theater is an entirely different mindset from success in business. The standards for good theater (artistic excellence) are wildly different from that of normal business marketing (ROI, profit).

If you're in theater, even using the term "commodity" in referring to theater will make you cringe. Yet, the fact that this cringe is nearly universal is a unique thing to theater, in terms of business and even in terms of the arts. Technologically reproducible art, be it film, music, fine art or literature, have all become dominated by a top-down big business structure to various degrees (the high art/low art distinction be damned). Theater can be top-down too, especially in New York (less so in Chicago or London). But despite the stereotypes of the Broadway producer, theater still exists on an immensely smaller business scale than just about any other form of art in the country. For all the complaining of theater's increasing commercialization and commodification, theater simply does not exist in the same financial stratosphere as any other form of art, even at its highest level. Some people who do theater are rich, but virtually no one gets rich—and I mean really rich, megamillionaire style—purely from theater itself.

As a result, theater has more of a focus on artistic excellence over profit than almost anything else in our culture. No matter what you think of the current strength of American theater, that's an enviable position for any artist to be in from an aesthetic standpoint. The downside is thatit's much harder to make a good living in theater. Of course, that's a tradeoff virtually every theater artist is willing to make.

But at the same time, most people in theater have problems with the notion of the majority theater artists having to live in poverty. As much was we like to romanticize the notion of a community of financially stable theater practicioners, without a wide-ranging income spectrum that includes the (relative) ultra-rich and ultra-poor, you simply cannot reconcile theater with the free market capitalist system that we currently live in. The Cold War proved that this liberal capitalist system is ultimately the most sustainable from a global economic perspective. By no means does that mean theater has no value in America—it may even give it more value simply precisely because it is so different. But again, what that means is that theater, at its core, has and will always run in spite of the larger socioeconomic spectrum of a capitalist society. If you go into theater, you better only want to make a sustainable living, or else you're screwed. No one should have to live in poverty. But poverty for some is virtually inevitable, and that rate will inevitably be higher a large-scale community that does not conform to the liberal democratic capitalist system. Communities like that national theater community we all strive for.

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Labels: art versus business, Broadway theatre, economics, gary vaynerchuk, how theater failed america, mike daisey, Summit Brewing Company, tom stoppard

Mike Daisey illustrates a fact that we don't like to think about (both in theater and in sports), but is still an economic reality: ticket prices are raised by demand and demand only. All the complaints about Personal Seat Licenses and price hikes in the new sports stadiums ignore the fact that sports tickets have actually been cheaper compared to the inflation of tickets for other entertainment events (witness Broadway). This adjustment is an inevitability that is actually long overdue.

Theater also gets its fair share of public grants. We get outraged at the notion of premium seating rather than the wealthy patrons' willingness to pay for such seats. Theater's great, but it's not special: it's subject to the same realities as any other form of entertainment, even in a bad economy.

Labels: economics, new stadiums, ticket prices

Yesterday, within a span of about an hour, I heard two conflicting reports on how the NYC Fringe Festival affects the city's off-off-Broadway and experimental theater scene. NY1's On Stage program had multiple interviews of theater professionals talking about how the Fringe is the only time in NYC when theaters can really put on a show for the love of the theatrical process more than for profit. An hour later, I see a Time Out New York feature which, in dissecting the problems of Manhattan's downtown theater scene, puts the blame squarely on the Fringe:

“Off-Off Broadway is now Philadelphia,” semi-jokes Ron Lasko, the Fringe’s publicist. While he says gentrification has done a lot of the damage, he admits the festival itself is also to blame. “It’s such a great financial bargain that many indie companies are quite content to produce their new work the Fringe [for a $550 fee] instead of seeking out costlier venues at other times,” he says. “When a showcase costs $20,000 to $40,000 to mount, there’s little room for experimentation.”

In reality, I think there's truth to both these statements. While we see more innovation per minute of stage time now than any other time in the New York season, maybe we should be spreading out that innovation more. I know Mike Daisey and Scott Walters would certainly say so, as this is a microcosm of their problems with the larger national scene in their mind. But at the same time, that may not make financial sense, as Don Hall would argue.

I'm a bit conflicted over this, as I feel the products that come out of the Fringe aren't as good as they're made out to be. Yes, the Fringe is more innovative and smaller, but that doesn't always mean better. There hasn't been a real Urinetown-level success in a long time, and I think that's more of a product of talent than of economics. NYC's Fringe pales in comparison to what's going on in Edinburgh right now. But is that the product of a flawed, fixable system or some other factors (creativity gaps, larger cultural trends, the limits of the medium). I don't think I have a firm opinion here. What about you guys?

Labels: economics, how theater failed america, innovation, nyc fringe festival

The breakdown:

• Theaterforte calls on Mike Daisey to define his view on how theater exactly fails America more clearly.
• Daisey responds, calling for a culture where the artist is nurtured and not desperate for income.
• Scott Walters gives his take on Daisey's point, advocating to keep it simple and return regional theater to its core values.
• Don Hall calls Daisey and Walters out, arguing that if restructuring American theater was so simple, it would have happened already. Hall makes a parallel to a professional gambler complaining about lacking health insurance-it's his choice, after all.
• Here's when the shit really starts to hit the fan. First, Daisey lashes back at Hall, claiming Hall misrepresented his argument and shoots down the blackjack parallel:

  This is just dumb. I don't know where to start--do I start with how art isn't much like gambling? Or how what society gains from art is wildly different than what it gets from gamblers? Or do we talk about how one form of activity (gambling) is on the ascendency, while theater has been shrinking...oh, I give up. It's just a really facile analogy, and I'm not going to parse it.
  
  The only part of this that is true is that being a working artist *feels* like being a professional gambler. Otherwise, it's worthless.

• Then, out of nowhere, Adam Thurman swoops in. He takes Hall's comparison one step further, drawing a parallel to the World Series of Poker and how nearly 90% of the players are "Dead Money." This is just like the theater world, Thurman argues. A handful of people who have enough skill and have learned to take advantage of the system, and lots of people who have foolishly jumped into the fold and will never make it.
• Daisey goes apeshit on Thurman, arguing that theater is not a zero sum game where the success of one person depends on the failure of another. Theater is not competitive, and one person's success does not entail another man's failure.
  
• Walters give his two cents on the Hall-Thurman analogy, breaking down their artistic Darwinism and noting that there's an element of luck to it. This post is followed by a particularly nasty comment trolling session between Walters, Hall, and others.
• Thurman strikes back with what he claims to be a hard-line economics stance on how Daisey and Walters are unrealistic, with a post entitled "The Power of Scarcity."
• Walters argues that Hall and Thurman disagree with him and Daisey on whether fixing American theater is a normative or descriptive problem. Despite being the only academic in the group, Walters takes the normative side. Hall leaves a nasty comment calling Walters cracked.
• In his Friday roundup, Hall calls Thurman's article the "Best Fucking Theater Post of the Week"

And then they all called it a week and went out and had tea. Sheesh, I guess if you don't want drama in your blogging life, don't blog about drama.

My Take:
For one, I think Hall is right to point out that fluffy, oversimplistic talk accomplishes nothing. I also think Thurman is right to point out that there is an inherent talent gap in all fields, be it theater, poker, or law. That's a side of the starving artist argument that is often ignored. What I will say, however, is that Daisey is right to point out that there's no need for theater to be competitive. Thurman claims to be taking the realist economic stance, but he makes an egregious error in his view of scarciy.

Yes, resources are scarce in the arts economy, just as they are in the world economy. But the economics of art, just like the economics of the world, is not like a poker tournament. There's not a fixed amount of money involved, and there's no fixed pie for each person to acquire a percentage of. One theater professional's success does not need to mean another one starves. Walters is right that Thurman has taken a descriptive stance, but he's overlooked how flawed his descriptive stance is.

If you're going to talk economics, why not use an example from actual economics, instead of a poker tournament? When India developed a tech industry, did America's tech industry crumble? No. Instead, India provided an extended pool of resources that has helped the U.S. and world economy much more than it has hurt. If it wasn't for India's economic development, there would be no Citigroup today.

Contrary to Thurman's assessment of scarcity, more theater would not mean that there is a shortage of pieces of the pie to be had. It would instead mean that the pie gets bigger. The argument is not that a bad theater artist should make as much as good one, but he should be able to make an income that's sustainable. Healthcare should not be dependent on your success. A bad lawyer can still make six figures, while an exceptional one can make eight figures. Theater artists should be able to make a living the same way.

The economic explanation for why most theater artists do starve is that a theater professional is not as heavily demanded as a laywer, and there is an an abundance of theater people over what is demanded. This creates a surplus of theater workers, which means more unemployment. Demand, however, is elastic, and it can increase. If steps can be taken to shift a demand curve to the right, then there will be more theatrical professionals making more money. The demand could increase by creating more lively, cheaper theater. Lively and cheap theater requires artists who can take risks without worrying about starving because their medical bills are so high.

When a basic standard of living is met, theater jumps back into the world like a spring. Theater artists can take more risks and ticket prices go down. People start coming back to the theater, putting money into the system. A theater artist's expected income increases, meaning more people can live that life, and have more of an incentive to do so. The normative goals are met by descriptive economics. Simple as that, people.

Labels: adam thurman, don hall, economics, how theater failed america, mike daisey, scott walters

No sooner do I take my Intro to Microeconomics final than I find this article on the tax incentives of various locations for the film industry.

Labels: economics, entertainment industry, taxes

Variety had a report up talking about how Broadway contributed $5.1 billion to New York's economy, which is up from $5.09 billion last year. These reports, according to Broadway league's biennial report, are misleading and a gross exaggeration that anyone who's ever taken a basic economics class can counter. The report got that number based on "sums paid out by producers and theater owners as well as ancillary spending -- hotel, restaurant and transportation costs, for instance -- by visitors who reported seeing a Broadway show as their primary reason for visiting New York. Total also figures in the indirect after-effects of this spending as it circulates through the economy."

To be fair, this report is slightly more accurate than most reports of this type, as it focuses on tourists who primarily visited for Broadway. But the number is a still an exaggeration for a number of reasons. For one, it assumes that if Broadway didn't exist, Broadway producers, realtors, and visitors would not contribute to New York for another reason, including what could theoretically be there instead of theater. It adds hotel, restaurant and transportation costs as if the rooms in hotels or the tables at restaurants wouldn't be filled by visitors in New York for other purposes. Secondly, I'm deeply suspicious of what those "indirect after-effects" were, as the report was basically able to make up any figure it wanted for that. It also doesn't consider the costs that hotels, restaurants, and transportation went through. Instead it just considered the costs of Broadway (and the Variety report was unclear if those were figured into its contributions to the economy), which went up by $111 milliuon dollars.

The more telling sign is that even as visitor spending for New York tourism increased overall, Broadway visitor spending was actually down. This basically means that Broadway has actually contributed less to the overall economy than a conceivable substitute—for instance, stores for international shoppers looking to capitalize on the weak dollar—would be able to contribute. So not only is Broadway not contributing $5.1 billion to NYC, it's actually costing the city money through unrealized revenue with conceivable substitutes.

This is not to say that all Broadway theaters should fold and be replaced with more Disney stores. I'm just saying that this report should be taken with about a pound of salt.

Labels: broadway, economics, new york city