April 14, 2008

The Downstage Debate

Steven Ray          posted 24 Jan 2008, 02:50 PM

Isn’t it terrific to have such debate over the current challenges Downstage Theatre Company faces.

What we hope our drama will invoke in audiences.

All of the writers on this issue make valid points, however, I feel, there is still the potential to have a vital Downstage Theatre Company continuing to run at the Hannah Playhouse.

In my ‘short’ career I’ve been involved in various theatre ventures – without our devised theatre through the 1970’s we as young, searching actors wouldn’t have been able to break into any of the established companies and I was lucky enough to have been an apprentice actor at The Mercury. One of the companies that as young practitioners we aspired to.

The wonderous thing about our work is it constantly changes; like life the constant is always in a state of change.

Personally, I love challenging, entertaining, new, old, classic, modern … writing.  As an actor and director, I’m an interpreter , a dreamer of ideas the writer has put before me and the joy of the work is how I am going to, along with the other members of the cast, realise these imaginings in front of me.

There is room for us all in all our various theatre groups and configurations, I believe.

And of course the theatre provides us with the one platform where, together with the audience, we share in person a commonality of feeling and expression.

I believe, what is required more than anything else confronting Downstage Theatre Company at this time is structure and leadership. A vision to take what has been a vital leading edge theatre company into this new millennium, which has really only just begun. I advocate a core company which can be built on and a programme that offers the best of our land and the world.

However it is realised; in what form it emerges, what is needed is the visionary to come forward and I say this as I believe there are people within New Zealand waiting for that opportunity. I urge the person with the ideas to lead, to present us with a direction that will inspire, excite, provoke, entertain and become a theatre that is a true reflection of our New Zealand society.

The focus must be on the work, the company; the values on which Downstage Theatre Company was established if it is to successfully carry that name.

Andre Anderson               posted 9 Feb 2008, 12:44 AM / edited 9 Feb 2008, 11:14 AM

Although, artistically speaking, the performing arts can remain forever young, from a business perspective it’s not overstating the case by all that much to suggest that the performing arts give prostitution a run for its money as the oldest profession.  However, regardless of which of these ancient vocations takes the title of most wizened career choice, the fact that the history of theatre stretches back somewhere around the time maths managed to evolve beyond 2+2 means the chances of Downstage discovering a startling new model to solve all its woes are decidedly small.  Minuscule, in fact.

That could be a handy fact to bear in mind in Downstage’s current predicament.  While everyone knows you need to hold on to the baby when you change the bathwater, as the plug is pulled on one administration it may also help to remember that there is no new range of designer bathtubs out there waiting to be discovered.  Sure, Downstage needs some new water in the tub, but it doesn’t need a complete bathroom renovation.  In fact, at most, I suspect, all it needs is a little new plumbing.

I count 4 basic operating models for theatre.  The first is the model that Downstage has largely been using recently – the producer model, successfully practised by both the Court and ATC.  The second model is the venue as presenter (not producer), where the venue buys in works created by others, rather than creating its own (something Downstage did in the ’90s).  The third is the cooperative model, of which BATS and Circa provide different examples.  And the fourth is the venue-for-hire, at the disposal of whoever can pay the hire fee.

The difference, of course, is who incurs the financial risk.  As a venue-for-hire, the independent producer takes the risk and the only thing the venue has to worry about is attracting enough hirers to cover its annual operating costs.  While attractive to the bean counters who own the bricks and mortar, the golden rule of risk is that where goes the risk, goes the control.  Thus, while I’m sure that giving responsibility for the artistic content of the Hannah Playhouse to independent producers capable of guaranteeing the hire fee could definitely lead to some interesting work every now and then, the better indication of likely content is the diet of largely middle-of-the road commercial fare witnessed at the Westpac St James.

Better, then, to wrest a little more control – and the associated risk – back into the venue’s lap.  Yet, arguably, one needs to go further than the next stop on the risk spectrum: the co-op model.  Here, much of the risk is taken by the practitioners who stage each work, although the venue also maintains a stake in the risk by taking a percentage of the box office rather than charging a set hire fee.

In the BATS version of the co-op model, loving theatre practitioners (worthy idealists that they are) willingly stump up for the production costs associated with staging their artistic baby and recklessly defer their fees in favour of a share of profits that are mediocre for sell-out, smash hits and scant to non-existent for anything less.  But, boy, does the smell of an oily rag produce some great theatre.  Of course, it also turns out a steady theatrical diet ranging from the underdone to the woeful.  But there’s no denying that, for every handful or so of worthy turds, BATS manages to present miniature masterpieces (or as close to it as to not be worth a damn).

Happily, the BATS version of the co-op model is wonderfully designed to support risky theatrical ventures, whether the risk lies in the untried and adventurous content or the untried and inexperienced practitioners (in fact, usually both).  Could this model be applied to the Hannah Playhouse?  Certainly.  Could it solve the over-crowding in BATS?  Absolutely.  Is it the answer?  No.

The reason shows in BATS can take risks is that their costs are so low.  With the venue only taking a percentage and the practitioners deferring their fees, one can stage a season in BATS with up-front costs of as little as $2,000.  However, the cut price operating model comes with all the usual caveats of cheap construction.  The production values are typically low and the workers do the job in sweat-shop conditions.  Thus, while you could walk this model over the road, by pushing the majority of the risk away from the venue and on to the practitioners, you lose the professional production values with which the Downstage brand is associated.

When you weaken a brand, it loses its value.  Or, thought about another way, there’s a good reason that tickets to a BATS show cost $15, whereas tickets to a Downstage show cost $35.  Audiences are willing to pay a premium for high production values, for which they expect first-class actors performing in first-class productions in a first-class venue.  BATS can’t deliver that level of quality (at least not consistently), but Downstage can.  Thus, having spent decades building a trusted brand in Wellington theatre that is able to command top-end prices, it would be shear waste to destroy the brand by importing the BATS operating model (not to mention a guaranteed path to lower pay for the actors and other theatre professionals working at Downstage).

Yet, pushing large amounts of risk onto the practitioners needn’t necessarily lead to patchy production values.  After all, Circa is a venue operated under a version of the co-op model that still manages to deliver a first-class theatre experience to its audience and charge top-end prices accordingly.  Significantly, however, when you apply the golden rule of risk, the control exercised by the practitioners in the face of the need, not only to risk their own fees, but to finance high production values for each production as well, sensibly leads to reasonably conservative programming and execution.

Of course, as Circa’s relative success demonstrates, that model and its associated programming works perfectly well.  But, precisely for that reason, it would be suspect for Downstage to compete with Circa in the same niche of the same market with the same business model.  While such an approach might work in a fast growing market turning over millions every year (cell-phone services, for example), it is wrong-headed in the next-to-no growth Wellington theatre market.  Given Circa is doing a good job in its niche, therefore, much better to work a niche in another part of the first-class theatre market.  Although history suggests that Wellington’s theatre market IS big enough to sustain two professional theatres, it’s perhaps not big enough to sustain two theatres competing for the same segment of the same audience with the same type of product.

Yet leaping out of our collective baths, yelling ‘Eureka!’ and running down the street telling anyone who will listen that Downstage should differentiate its programming from Circa is hardly a Nobel prize-winning thought.  For, it’s not only the operating models that are dead obvious in theatre, it’s the business plans as well.  In fact, for an industry that thrives on creativity, there’s precious little room for invention in the underlying structures by which it operates.  Looking for an undiscovered new operating paradigm with which to run Downstage is a fool’s errand.  There isn’t one.

But what of the difference between the producer and presenter models?  Is there some unforeseen advantage yet to be mined by once again abandoning the producer model entirely in favour of becoming a presenter?  In theory, yes.  In practice: not so much.

The advantage of the presenter model is that it’s a cheaper method of operation, because the amount the theatre agrees to pay to buy a show can be less than the amount it cost to create the show in the first place.  Second time round, the high start-up costs of getting a show on the boards for the first time (set, costumes, dramaturges, workshops) have already been covered, meaning costs are down.  Sell the same number of tickets as you would for any other show and – viola! – your profit margin is that much bigger.

There’s also a potential programming advantage.  If you purchase works that come with a pre-cooked reputation and/or a big-name actor, you increase the show’s marketability.  Witness the Westpac St James’ purchase of the two Royal Shakespeare Company productions last year.  Between them, Bill and Sir Ian sold out Lear.  (But could the theatre sell tickets to the Chekov without Sir Ian?  Hell no.  Solution: cancel Chekov.  Replace with more Bill and Sir Ian.)

But before we go leaping out of our baths again, hands up who wants Downstage to programme a steady diet of hand-me-down productions from ATC, the Court and Centrepoint?  Remember, the golden rule of risk is that from whence the savings goes the control; and, in this case, a presenting venue trades lower financial risk for loss of control across two critical dimensions of its business: programming selection and quality control.  When you’re not initiating and producing your own shows in-house, first, you can’t programme the precise mix of shows you feel will appeal to your target market; and, secondly, you can’t oversee the quality of the product that you’re presenting.

The first problem wouldn’t exist if there was an infinite choice of plays and styles available for purchase ‘in repertory’.  But there isn’t.  Shows that Christchurch or Auckland audiences love aren’t necessarily the ones to which a Downstage audience will buy tickets (and, even if they would buy tickets to the same play, the two audiences are likely to respond to different types of direction and staging, at least part of the time).

As for quality control, one might think that pulling together the same actors and the same director with the same costumes and set would produce the same theatrical production.  That it doesn’t always work out this way is one of those apparently irrational features of the theatre business that only makes sense once you recall that the magic of live theatre depends on no two performances ever being the same.

This is not to say there isn’t a place for some presenting in the programming mix.  Given that a venue still chooses what productions to buy in, it still has control over how it positions its programming in the market.  And, although there’s never a 100% guarantee with the quality of a buy-in, it’s reasonable to take that risk from time to time when you’re buying from a trusted source.  Given the potential cost savings, therefore, there will always be a place for some presenting in a year-long programme (which is no doubt why Downstage already adopts this model from time to time).

Nevertheless, by and large, in order to target a different segment of the Wellington theatre audience and thereby differentiate its programming from Circa, and in order to keep firm control over the quality of the productions it stages, Downstage needs to produce its own shows.  Arguably, therefore, there’s nothing wrong with either the current operating model that Downstage is using (i.e. a producer with a little presenting in the mix), or the current business plan (i.e. stage first class theatre at first class prices with shows that complement Circa).  Or, to return to the bathroom metaphor – as murky as the water may have become in the bathtub, there’s nothing wrong with bathtub itself.

Of course, having the right “bathtub” didn’t stop Downstage from ending up with “murky water”.  Having a sound business plan and operating model is all well and good, but they don’t help unless you can do a good job of executing the business plan in accordance with the operating model.  In Downstage’s case, the ability to deliver on its artistic and business potential turns on the two critical dimensions at the heart of its identity, the first of which is creative leadership.

As noted above, the creative leadership of a theatre company like Downstage depends on both programming and the ability to stage high quality productions (quality control).  Unfortunately, with respect to programming, while it’s easy to look at market history, conclude there’s sufficient demand for 2 professional theatre companies in Wellington and so conclude that all Downstage needs to do is differentiate itself from Circa, making the right choices to draw that distinction definitely falls in the Very Hard Box.  Indeed, it’s the biggest hospital pass the new artistic director has to catch.  After all, it’s one thing to say, ‘Don’t be Circa’.  It’s another thing altogether to positively define what Downstage should be instead.

Happily, however, this is not a problem that should be solved by anyone other than the next artistic director.  Imposing a prescribed programming formula from above is a recipe for programming by committee, and is therefore virtually guaranteed to produce a swampy, mish-mash lacking in clarity and coherence.  More happily, still, good artistic directors are actually the type of people who relish the simultaneous arrival of an oval ball and Jerry Collins.  Thus, provided the artistic director embraces the mission to differentiate Downstage from Circa, precisely how they go about doing that is one of those glorious artistic freedoms that should be left up to them.

The only caveat to this conclusion is the predictably financial one that actually better identifies what artistic directors find so devilishly difficult about programming than any need for brand differentiation.  Strike out in new and creative directions an artistic director can do in spades.  But do it to a budget?  There’s the rub.

I, too, would like to see some of the creative successes that make BATS such a great venue find their way across the road.  But the challenge is not so much artistic – it’s not that such work could never suit the Downstage brand – as it is financial.  When you’re producing first class theatre, it needs a first class budget.  Whereas your average BATS show costs $10,000 to stage, your average Downstage production costs 10 times that much.  Exposed to a financial risk of $100,000 for each production, it means Downstage needs to sell some 3,000 tickets per season to cover the costs of that production (not to mention the general overheads of the organisation that come on top of that).

Contrast those finances with your average smash hit at BATS.  Even 16 sell-out performances over a two week season will be seen by less than 1,500 people and generate a mere $20,000 or so at the box office.  Sure, there’s a real appetite for boundary-pushing, cutting edge theatre at BATS prices.  But, before you can import that programming philosophy into Downstage, you need to be confident that you can do the old Twice Double – at least TWICE the number of people who were willing to see a sell-out BATS show need to stump up DOUBLE the ticket price for a similar show at Downstage.

(As all those with an artistic sensibility know from experience, it’s just not easy to be different AND make money.)

Solution?  Well, Downstage could change its operating model and push the majority of its risk onto its practitioners.  But who wants practitioners to suck such a big kumara, especially when Downstage would probably be kissing goodbye to its ability to charge first-class prices?  As such, this option is really only attractive if one feels that a sea-change has occurred among Wellington theatre-goers, such that there is no longer a sufficiently large audience to support two professional theatre companies.  While pessimists might draw that conclusion from last year’s box office blues, I doubt the conclusion is warranted.

Better solution?  Stick with the tried and true method of programming a professional theatre: mix and match.  A reliable Shakespeare here, a modern classic there, a crowd-pleasing show at Christmas, and – hey presto – you’ve (theoretically) got some reliable earners to help offset the risk of staging more adventurous fare from up and coming, cutting-edge practitioners.

After that, it’s just more of the trench warfare so familiar to all arts organisations: audience development.  (If the golden rule of real estate agents is the ABC (“Always Be Closing”), the golden rule of theatre companies is a Swedish rock group (“Always Be Building Audience”).)

Successful programming seems to be as much instinct and feel for the audience, as it is rational judgment.  Part eye on the future, part eye on the bank balance, programme selection is a challenging exercise.  But the basic techniques of programming aren’t flawed.  The broad strategies described above succeed at the Court and ATC; and they’ve worked at Downstage in the past.  So, again, unless one thinks that the number of Wellington theatre-goers has permanently shrunk, the better conclusion is to stick with the techniques that have worked most of the time while acknowledging that the alchemy of programming can be such a delicate art that at least one show a year is guaranteed to be the wrong one.

In short, apply that great oxymoron:  More of the same!  Only different!

But if the business plan and operating model are sound, and if there’s nothing wrong with the programming that a new artistic director can’t fix, should one conclude that the problems of the last administration were just a case of bad programming?  Well, maybe.  (After all, if a new artistic director can quickly usher in an era of box office success, no one may care too much about the other cracks exposed during the last administration.)  However, if the Downstage board wants to build a more robust organisation that strives for best practice in the field of creative business, I suspect that it’s the other vital area of the theatre’s operations that needs urgent attention.

Hang on.  What other area?  If one is content with the operating model and business plan, and if one has appointed a new artistic director, what could possibly be left to worry about?

This can be a real blind spot in creative businesses.  The creative identity can be so dominant that the other half of the organisation’s identity is completely neglected.  Yet a creative business is just that: equal parts “creative” and “business”.  To succeed, it needs good business leadership as much as it needs good creative leadership.  Thus, much as the programming of the current administration can be criticised for having more than its permissible share of box office failure, I suspect a more fundamental problem lies with the business management of Downstage.

The problem isn’t personnel, it’s structure.  The problem is that the organisation is biased towards its creative identity to the detriment of its business identity.  Why?  Because the general manager has to report to the artistic director.  The problem is that the person with all the creative skills can overrule the person with all the business skills.

But isn’t that how it should be?  It IS an arts organisation, after all.  We wouldn’t want it to be captured by a bean counter whose sole focus is “shareholder value”.

No, we wouldn’t.  But consider how important the following are to the artistic success of an arts organisation:  marketing, financing, budgeting, operations management, accounting, technical production and human resources.  When you think about it, these are foundation stones upon which the artistic potential of the organisation thrives, and they are the responsibilities of the general manager.  So why would you subject these vital components of the organisation to the management control of someone who is not a student of any one of these fields, let alone a leader?  (Just because they’re strong artistic leaders doesn’t make them sound business leaders.)

Expecting one person to be able to master both the creative and business management of an arts organisation is a recipe for disaster.  Naturally, there is the odd person capable of pulling it off.  But the more likely result is a director who has great artistic ability, but whose overall leadership of the organisation is completely undermined by largely non-existent business skills.  That’s not fair on anyone (perhaps least of all the artistic director); and it inevitably produces the murky shade of water seen at Downstage recently.

Solution?  The internal management structure must strike a balance between the authority exercised by the artistic director and the authority exercised by the general manager.  Consequently, the management hierarchy must rank the artistic director side-by-side with the general manager.  Both leaders must be appointed directly by, and report directly to, the board.  Neither can overrule the other’s decisions in their area of responsibility.  This structure will ensure the general manager is able to deliver a sound business platform on which the artistic director can execute his or her creative vision.

In sum, you can’t be a successful creative business unless the business half of the equation is well managed.  And the only way to ensure good business management is to empower good business managers.  Consequently, if the general manager’s decisions about business matters can be overruled by the artistic director, you’ve failed to provide the environment in which good business management can thrive.

No need to go leaping out of your bath when you work out what happens next.  Just install a little new plumbing, instead.

e. v         posted 9 Feb 2008, 09:11 PM

whew andre! long but very interesting and i agree with a lot of your points. cant add to what you’ve said so ill leave it there!

martyn roberts posted 10 Feb 2008, 04:52 PM

Great overview Andre. And in response to the last point which sums up the dilemma faced by the structure of the administration, is that yes there should be equal status between the business arm and the artistic arm, I agree. What THEN becomes important is the make-up of the Downstage board. Do we have  an equal balance between the artistic arm and the business arm?  Considering that the board can over-ride decisions by either the general manager and/or artistic director how important is the ratio of practitioner and business involvement?

Moya Bannerman            posted 11 Feb 2008, 10:08 AM

What about Creative New Zealand’s interventions on the programming of recurrently funded theatres? Is this relevant to the Downstage discussion?

From what I hear, CNZ routinely sends submitted programmes back for revision, so things that excited the creative passions of potential directors, designers and casts get sidelined and compromise productions take their place. This must affect the creative energy levels of frontline ‘playmakers’. And this filters out into the community, so shows open hamstrung with an underlying sense of being second best. Word-of-mouth works at many levels.

And does this strategy ensure box office returns meet the needs of the projected budgets? Apparently not. The bureaucratic gatekeepers and holders of the purse strings are no wiser – and probably less wise – when it comes to sensing what a given community might respond to. And their actions, it seems to me, must be debilitating.

The point has often been made, including on this site, that CNZ also wields enormous power via the Project Funding process when it comes to deciding what ‘lives’ and what doesn’t. 

Is this the way it should be? While we’re talking ‘models’, should the interventionist policies of funding bodies be up for discussion too? Consider The Royal Court in London, for example, or Cheek By Jowl (that’s coming to the International Festival) – are they partly State funded? And if so, how much do the instruments of the State interfere in their programming? I’d love to know. 

T MEEK                 posted 13 Feb 2008, 07:47 AM  

Moya! You’re back! The word round town was you’d become Aaron Alexander!

Aaron Alexander              posted 13 Feb 2008, 10:30 AM

The what now?

I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together…

But, no I’m just me.

Zia Lopez             posted 13 Feb 2008, 11:13 AM / edited 13 Feb 2008, 12:09 PM

“Artistic Director”? What seems to suit Wellington and what certainly works very successfully for Circa and Bats – and certainly what Wellington practitioners are used to – is a working environment that is not run by an Ego.

Circa’s programme is muddled together by a bunch of practitioners, quite happy to be called a ‘council’; Bats’ programme is cobbled together by a hardworking non-selfpromoting guy quite happy to call himself a programme manager (and by all reports the Bats manager is typically self effacing, seeing himself at the service of the occupying companies, not their ‘boss’). And a host of other excellent shows go on about the place entirely without the support or prompting from a guiding voice On High.

There is something very old-fashioned about the idea of an Artistic Director, and in Wellington’s now thoroughly collectivised and democratised theatre sector I’m not sure how keen practitioners really are at being seen as part of some theatre administrator’s ‘vision’ any more – let alone at the mercy of the ‘vision’ of the Downstage Board which has a reputation (I’m not sure how well deserved) of interfering in the theatre’s programme in a manner far exceeding its qualifications to do so.

Lets keep the Egos at bay I say and give the job to a James Hadley clone to run in the way to which he has become accustomed, welcoming all-comers and filling the space with a joyous clutter of varied ‘visions’, instead of some Firm Hand who will try to over-tidy-up the jumble, and leech it of all excitement. (Well, maybe a little less cluttered … but at least a programme that is generated OUTSIDE the building, and not the result of one individual’s preferences.)

And if this requires a shake-up of Downstage’s financial system, then shake it up! A Co-operative system does not at all need to mean low pay for actors, as Circa in particular has proved.

John Smythe      posted 13 Feb 2008, 12:38 PM

You will note in the news item DOWNSTAGE INDUSTRY CONSULTATION that the term ‘Artistic Director’ is not mentioned. Everything is up for review and you – all – are invited to advance your views either at the Open Space discussion on Saturday the 23rd of February or in writing [click the link above for details]. And please feel free to keep the discussion going on this site too.

Brian Halstead   posted 13 Feb 2008, 01:41 PM

What did happen to that debate on pseudonyms? Moya B … Aaron A … Talk about the poster with 30 different identities…

Moya Bannerman            posted 13 Feb 2008, 01:53 PM  

If you enter Aaron Alexander in the ‘search reviews’ field and press ‘go’, you’ll get a good five results. He’s real all right.

Aaron Alexander              posted 13 Feb 2008, 02:14 PM / edited 13 Feb 2008, 04:30 PM

Indeed. But not the subject under discussion thanks.

(Sorry, just a bit spookily existential for me)

Andre Anderson               posted 13 Feb 2008, 07:10 PM / edited 13 Feb 2008, 08:37 PM

Imagine Downstage is considering whether to stage a production of Shakespeare in its next season.  You’ve been asked to make the decision.  Select the correct answer from the following—

(a)    Stage ‘Hamlet’, in traverse, directed by David Lawrence, with no lighting or scenery.

(b)   Stage ‘Romeo & Juliet’, in the round, directed by Katie Wolfe, with full staging.

(c)    Stage no Shakespeare at all next season.

Of course, those who picked (a), (b) or (c) are all wrong.  In fact, the correct answer is to observe that the question is predicated on a faulty assumption.  In advance of a season, there is no correct answer when it comes to programming.  There are only choices that offer different advantages and disadvantages.

That’s why it’s in the moral, rather than factual, sense that we argue about “right” and “wrong” in theatre programming (indeed, in the arts generally).  One person might believe passionately that David Lawrence is the best director of Shakespeare in Wellington and so argue that the “right” answer is programme (a).  Another person might argue with even more passion that audiences are drowning in Shakespeare and so the “right” answer is (c).  But, no matter where their passion lies, the argument they each mount is of a completely different sort than the argument a civil engineer mounts when deciding what material is needed to build a bridge.  In engineering, there are objectively right and wrong answers.  In theatre, there are objectively persuasive arguments, but no objectively correct answers.

Sure, there’s the box office result.  Ex post facto, we all love playing arm chair Told-You-So when a production has bombed at the box office.  (“Told you we’d never sell tickets to a show without set and lights!”  “Told you we should have hired David Lawrence!”  “Told you we should have had a Shakespeare.”)  As they say, hindsight is 20:20.  But foresight?  Oh for the certainty of an engineer.

In fact, of course, it’s precisely because there can be no certainty that we love the arts.  It’s in the gap between the objectively persuasive arguments and the artistic act where the creative instinct lives and thrives.

Unfortunately, when you can’t be wrong, there’s also a terrible freedom in the knowledge that anything can be right.  Where engineering decisions can be made by reference to pre-existing, outside standards, there’s no such safety in theatre.  Ultimately, whoever the decision-maker is must make a judgement call.

Moreover, the stakes can be very high.  The theatre’s reputation, financial future and, with them, the decision-maker’s job and reputation, can all ride on good programming decisions.  Without the safety of mathematical certainties, all a decision-maker has to go on is their own self-belief – a belief that their choice is the right choice.

It’s for this reason that you have to have an ego to be a creative leader.  Without enough self-confidence and self-belief, you’ll never be able to bridge the gap between the objectively persuasive arguments and the artistic act.

Moreover, precisely because there’s no objective right and wrong in programming, there will always be room for a chorus of dissenting voices, often backed up by objectively persuasive arguments.  Consequently, not only does the decision-maker have to have enough ego to make a decision in the first place, they have to have enough ego to maintain that decision in the face of the telling points their critics will inevitably make.

Given these pressures, it’s no surprise that the requirement to have a robust ego in positions of creative leadership carries the unfortunate risk of producing egotistical creative leaders.  It’s not that you have to be egotistical to have the ego necessary for the job.  You don’t.  It’s just that it can be difficult for a well-meaning employer to pick the difference at the job interview.

Significantly, however, the same risk applies whether the decision-maker is called an “Artistic Director” or a “Programme Manager”.  When it comes to the job’s responsibilities for programming, the particular title makes no difference.  As such, the job carries the same need for a healthy ego regardless of the words on the office door.  Thus, call them what you will, trading one title for the other won’t eliminate the risk of handing programming control to an egomaniac.

Yet what of the lovely BATS environment, where the Programme Manager seems to quietly facilitate the desires of others, rather than impose His Vision on the organisation?  How is it that this system can be so ego-free?

The answer is that the financial risks at BATS are much, much lower than at Downstage.  At BATS, the only financial risk the venue takes is with respect to its commission for hire of the theatre.  Moreover, annual grants mean that the organisation is only partially reliant on that commission to cover its operating costs (staff salaries, etc).  Consequently, BATS’ reputation, financial future and, with them, the Programme Manager’s job and reputation, aren’t riding on him making good programming decisions to anywhere near the degree that they are on his counterpart at Downstage.  With that reduction in financial pressure comes the programming freedom that enables BATS’ to facilitate such a wide range of work.

In contrast, in order to make the finances work at Downstage, the poorly performing shows of the year must sell at least as many tickets as a sell-out season at BATS, and the popular shows must sell 4-5 times as many tickets to compensate.  Because Downstage operating costs are 10 times higher than BATS’, the person making the programming decisions is under intense pressure to get it right.  There’s simply nowhere near the same room for error that exists over the road.  Where BATS can afford to programme handfuls of low-selling shows every year, Downstage can’t afford to programme more than one without it threatening the livelihood of the organisation (witness the current crisis).

Inevitably, that financial pressure has to influence the programming selections that are made.  While it would be wonderful to reproduce the same programming variety from over the road, the inability to absorb the same number of box office failures means the programmer at Downstage simply can’t be as welcoming as their counterpart at BATS.  That doesn’t mean they can’t programme cutting edge new New Zealand work.  It just means they have to be careful to select the cutting edge new New Zealand work that is going to sell a reasonable number of tickets.

The reality is that, whether it’s an Artistic Director or a Programme Manager, a council or a board, when the show costs $70,000-$100,000+ to produce, whichever body is making the programming decision has to be able to pick a show that will sell at the box office.  Preferably, it needs to sell at least enough to cover its immediate production costs; but even in the worst case scenario it still needs to match a sell-out season at BATS.

This is the business reality of theatre.  If you want to pay practitioners properly, and if you want to design and stage first-class productions, then you have to be able to produce shows that can sell 3,000+ tickets.  That’s as true of the co-op model at Circa as it is of the producer model at Downstage.  Although who takes the risk under each model does make a difference to what programming risks they’re willing to take, once the risk is taken, who’s at risk doesn’t change the need to make enough money to cover the risk involved.  Whether it’s Downstage or Circa, if the value of the expertise, time and materials that go into building the show are $100K, then the show needs to sell some 3,300 tickets to ensure that no one loses any money.

For this reason, importing Circa’s co-op model to Downstage won’t provide the means for introducing a BATS programming philosophy.  The only way to import the BATS programming philosophy is to import the BATS operating model.  However, the reason the BATS programming philosophy can take such risks is because the BATS operating model is free to pay practitioners bugger-all and force them to carry all the financial risk.  While this model clearly serves a great need within the Wellington theatre community, like John Smythe, I think it’s too important for practitioners to have a theatre where they can get a guaranteed pay-cheque without having to take such risks.

So, if not the BATS programming model, then what of the Circa programming model?  Would Downstage do better if the board took all responsibility for programming, as the council does at Circa?  Maybe.  But the ego required to make programming decisions remains the same.  Consequently, the risk is that, by shifting power to a committee, you simply multiply the number of egos wrestling with the problem.

Because there’s never any objectively correct answer, decision-making by committee can then subject programming to the horse-trading of personal politics.  (“If I vote for his pet project, then he’ll vote for mine.”)  Depending on the personalities involved, the resulting season can get very screwed up indeed.  As such, I think the clarity of one person’s decisions always outweighs the competing interests that underlie the decisions of a committee.

That said, we’re right to fear an egomaniac.  Egotists in any position of power are a royal pain in the arse.  Yet, for me, the risk of getting an egotist doesn’t outweigh the benefits that individual leadership can provide.  After all, it’s not inevitable that all leaders are military drill sergeants who demand we lick their boots.  The best leaders are facilitators who know how to empower those working for them, leaders you choose to follow who inspire you to your best.  Combine that potential with the clarity and decisive decision-making that only individual leadership can provide, and I’d stick with a creative leader over a committee any day.

Regardless of what title they’re given, here’s hoping Downstage gets the great leadership it needs to thrive once more.

Andre Anderson               posted 11 Apr 2008, 06:39 PM / edited 11 Apr 2008, 10:33 PM

For those of you who appreciate a long read, here’s the sort of business advice I hope Downstage has sought from the likes of a PricewaterhouseCoopers or McKinsey & Co…

Downstage – Strategic Proposal – Business Analysis

In light of its recent difficulties, Downstage has invited industry feedback on its proposal to focus on the presentation of new New Zealand work. I apply a business analysis when reviewing this proposed new strategy below.

Summary

The new strategy gives Downstage an advantageous business opportunity, while also entailing significant risks. The opportunity is to become the only theatre in Wellington offering theatre-goers a first-class experience of new New Zealand theatre. While that offers a unique sales proposition, if the majority of the theatre’s programme are new works, it is likely to narrow the potential market and thus reduce ticket sales, at least until the quality of the new strategy can be established with theatre-goers.

Moreover, the niche in which the proposal would position Downstage is wedged between potential competition from existing first-class New Zealand theatre at Circa, on one side, and price competition for new New Zealand work from BATS on the other, both of which will compete for sales among those Wellington theatre-goers interested in attending New Zealand theatre. Nevertheless, the niche exists and the available market research suggests there is sufficient interest in New Zealand work among Wellington theatre-goers to risk implementing the proposal.

Provided Downstage produces first-class new New Zealand theatre – in particular by carefully selecting promising new ideas, by effectively managing the creative development of those ideas, and by ensuring a consistently high standard of set and costumes – it will maintain the strength of its brand and its ability to attract discerning theatre-goers accordingly. When combined with the first-class facilities and services provided around each performance, Downstage will be able to package a theatre experience that should prove sufficiently attractive to those theatre-goers who can afford to pay first-class prices.

In light of the risks and challenges involved, the best means of implementing the new strategy is for Downstage to create a festival of new work that runs for a finite period every year. The advantage is that Downstage can build a new in-house brand that highlights its position as the home of new New Zealand theatre (e.g. The Downstage Fresh New Zealand Festival).

Finally, in order to implement the new strategy effectively, the theatre needs effective marketing and business managers, together with a management structure that empowers the contribution these managers make to the organization. Therefore, Downstage needs to re-structure its management hierarchy so that the general manager no longer reports to the artistic director, but instead is responsible only to the board.

Value proposition

To date, the compelling reason for Wellington theatre-goers to purchase a ticket to Downstage has been that it provides a first-class theatre experience at a reasonable price. However, Circa offers precisely the same value proposition. Consequently, the proposal to focus on new New Zealand works has the advantage of differentiating Downstage from Circa. (While Circa does programme new New Zealand works on occasion, it doesn’t make this a focus of its programming.)

Market research

According to Statistics New Zealand, 10% of New Zealanders over the age of 15 describe themselves as being “very interested” in attending theatrical performances written by New Zealanders (Cultural Experiences Survey 2002). A further 19% of the population over 15 is “somewhat interested” in New Zealand theatre, meaning that almost 30% of adults have at least some interest in New Zealand work.

Target market

There are 223,000 people aged 15+ in Wellington and Lower Hutt cities combined. Theoretically, therefore, there is a target market of 22,300 people who are very interested in New Zealand theatre (though not necessarily new New Zealand theatre). Then there are a further 42,000 people who have some interest, making a combined target market of 75,000 people. Compare attendance figures:  According to Statistics New Zealand, up to 37% of Wellington’s adult population attend a theatrical performance each year (‘A Measure of Culture’, 2003). This equates to 82,500 people from Wellington and Lower Hutt combined. Of those who attend theatre, 27% attend 3 or more performances. Assuming this is the core audience for theatre in Wellington, this market segment numbers the same as the estimated number of people “very interested” in New Zealand theatre: 22,300 people.

Demographics

In all likelihood, the two groups are largely the same people. Two-thirds of regular theatre-goers are women, three-quarters are over the age of 35, and a disproportionate number hold tertiary qualifications. Similarly, two-thirds of those people who expressed some interest in New Zealand theatre (whether “new” or not) are women, disproportionate numbers of middle-aged people expressed the same interest, and, proportionately, interest in New Zealand work increases as personal income increases (‘A Measure of Culture’, Statistics New Zealand).

Market analysis

On paper, therefore, even an exclusive programme of New Zealand theatre at Downstage is not estimated to reduce the size of the available market all that much, as compared to a programme dominated by non-New Zealand works. (In theory, the difference is 7,500 people: an estimated 75,000 people have some interest in attending New Zealand theatre, while an estimated 82,500 people attend theatre in Wellington each year.)

Competition from Circa

However, to the extent that Circa programmes existing New Zealand works, that theatre will compete in the market of theatre-goers interested in New Zealand theatre. The proposed distinction is for Downstage to focus on new and emerging New Zealand theatre, rather than existing works. However, because any new work is harder to sell than an existing one, the distinction is likely to reduce the size of the potential market. For example, as a return season of Joyful & Triumphant draws the audience for New Zealand theatre to Circa, an unheard of new play at Downstage could potentially suffer. Moreover, ticking a box in a survey to indicate that you’re interested in attending theatre written by New Zealanders and actually purchasing a ticket to New Zealand theatre are two notoriously different things. Although it’s clear the market has a real interest in New Zealand works, it’s by no means clear that a programme dominated by new New Zealand works will be able to convert enough of that interest into sufficient ticket sales to sustain Downstage. Thus, while narrowing its focus has the benefit of distinguishing Downstage from Circa, it also has the likely disadvantage of narrowing its potential audience, at least initially.

Competition from BATS

BATS already focuses on presenting new and emerging New Zealand works, just as Downstage is proposing to do. Worse still, BATS only charges half the price, thereby posing a real threat to Downstage’s potential market share. Nevertheless, in theory, there is still a unique niche in the market available for Downstage to exploit. Provided it can maintain its production values, Downstage can become the only theatre in Wellington regularly offering the market a first-class experience of new New Zealand theatre. Although this value proposition is unique, it’s not clear how many people in the target market for newNew Zealand work are willing to pay double the price to attend a first-class production at Downstage instead of half that price for a production at BATS. To the extent that Wellington theatre-goers prefer to pay less for the BATS experience, sales to BATS shows will undermine sales at Downstage.

First class new New Zealand theatre

Therefore, Downstage must build an audience in Wellington that hasn’t existed before (at least, not consistently): an audience for first-class new New Zealand theatre at first-class prices. To do so requires Downstage to target two segments of regular theatre-goers: (i) those who are interested in new New Zealand theatre and who can afford to pay more; and (ii) those who already pay more but who haven’t previously attended new New Zealand theatre.

Attracting interested theatre-goers

The challenge is to persuade those theatre-goers who already attend new New Zealand theatre at BATS that they will get real value for the extra money they have to pay to see a show at Downstage. This will be particularly difficult to the extent that the quality of BATS productions is first-class and it’s only the lower quality of the BATS venue itself that is dictating the discount price (e.g. “The Hollow Men”). However, this usefully highlights two strengths that Downstage can exploit to convince theatre-goers that Downstage, rather than BATS, is the more reliable source of first class newNew Zealand theatre: venue and brand. In short, where BATS cannot consistently deliver first-class theatre, Downstage can.

Venue

The quality venue at Downstage communicates quality service. Where the physical environment at BATS says “smell of an oily rag”, the physical environment at Downstage says “high quality theatre experience.” Because many theatre-goers prefer the comfort and service provided by a premium venue, provided Downstage can deliver high quality service and facilities, the first-class experience it offers before and after a performance will attract theatre-goers to pay first-class prices.

Brand

Brand communicates reliability: “Downstage is where first-class theatre is found in Wellington.” For audiences, this generally means that, when they purchase a ticket to a Downstage production, they feel confident they will see a polished, professional production. Significantly, however, because not all theatre-goers can immediately tell the difference between great acting or direction and the average execution of these skills, the quality of those aspects of a production that can be judged on face value alone (e.g. set and costumes) carries a disproportionate weight in establishing a first-class standard of theatre. Consequently, if Downstage is to convince theatre-goers to pay first-class prices for new New Zealand theatre, it must invest in high production values for each new work.

Attracting previously uninterested theatre-goers

The other primary factor on which a first-class standard of theatre is judged is the quality of the play itself. Although audiences can have the same difficulty distinguishing between great and average plays as they do distinguishing between great and average acting, how much they enjoy the content still contributes to how well they feel the experience delivered a first-class standard. This factor can usually be taken for granted when staging existing works by established playwrights, but it becomes much more significant when programming works that have never been staged before. If Downstage is to succeed in programming new New Zealand theatre, it must successfully produce works that satisfy theatre-goers’ perception of first-class content in order for it to maintain first-class prices. While quality content will also be important to those already interested in seeing new New Zealand work, it is likely to be the sole determining factor for those theatre-goers who regularly pay first-class prices, but who haven’t displayed a strong interest in new New Zealand work in the past. As this could well describe a significant part of the theatre’s existing audience, the programming choices, ability to realise the artistic potential of the resulting productions, and the skill to market those productions wisely, will all determine to what extent these theatre-goers can be converted to the new strategy.

Producing new theatre

The challenge with producing new theatre is how difficult it is to see the artistic potential of a new idea in advance, followed by how difficult it is to realise that idea’s potential. This is the art of a good producer: the ability to pick promising work, to appoint the right creative team, and to manage the development process required to realise the work’s artistic potential. As a theatre producer, programming and employing the right team have generally been strengths at Downstage. (Although this obviously hasn’t been true for every production, for the purposes of this analysis it is true enough.) However, because it hasn’t staged large amounts of new theatre, Downstage may struggle in the critical role of managing artistic development, particularly where multiple new works need to be developed simultaneously.

Creative development

In the case of written scripts, the theatre’s lack of experience is mitigated by the solid development programme that Playmarket can offer. However, Downstage is exposed to greater risk with respect to new devised works, where the ability to re-work a script in advance is inherently limited. Given that the majority of new work at BATS has been devised by actors, rather than written by playwrights, Downstage can expect to consider many submissions advocating new devised work rather than new scripts. Consequently, if the new strategy is to succeed, Downstage will quickly need to become expert at developing new work to a first-class standard, especially in the field of devising, where it must develop effective management practices largely from scratch.

Costs of development

Allied to the challenge of managing creative development are the greater costs this may involve. While staging new works may alleviate the cost of royalties, this cost saving could, in some cases, be more than off-set by the costs of creative development. Again, this will be a particular issue for new devised works, which require a company of paid actors to work together over an extended period of time to build the work to a first-class standard.

Greater time

As this suggests, time is also a crucial factor to be considered in managing creative development. Whether Downstage is developing a new devised work in-house, or has sought the outside help of Playmarket to workshop a script, the time it takes from programming selection to the staging of a new work may need to be much longer than for new productions of existing works. Moreover, if Downstage is to maintain a first-class standard, it cannot afford to cut too many corners with respect to the development phase of new theatre, as this phase tends to determine the artistic success or failure of the work.

Development risk

Finally, it is important to acknowledge that, even after a thorough and well-managed development process, the script and staging of most new works is flawed to some extent. This is a natural part of artistic development, in that it’s only when you see a work fully staged that you can see certain flaws. Precisely because you can’t do anything about what you can’t see before hand, any programme of new works has to be able to survive the higher number of artistic flaws inherent in staging new theatre.

Marketing new theatre

For this reason, it is not enough for Downstage to become an industry leader at managing the creative development of new work. It must also set the standard for marketing new New Zealand theatre, because, even if the script and staging are masterpieces, marketing a brand new show is much more difficult than marketing an existing work. The particular challenge will depend on how many new works Downstage chooses to programme each year. If most productions are new, the challenge will be isolating the unique selling feature of each production and successfully communicating that to the audience. That task becomes more straightforward if only one production per year is new, but in that case Downstage will lose the marketing potential inherent in being able to position the theatre as the home of first-class new New Zealand work.

Implementation

Even if an exclusive programme of new New Zealand theatre could be marketed effectively, the risk of relying solely on the box office sales from new work are too great, at least initially, to endorse this approach without significant extra funding support. This strongly suggests that the better approach is a balanced one, in which Downstage programmes existing New Zealand and overseas works that have sufficient standing to provide box office “insurance” against the risk of low sales from the balance of new works.

The Downstage Fresh New Zealand Festival

Unfortunately, to the extent that the new works are intermingled with existing work, the marketing advantages of being able to position the theatre in its new niche will be diluted as the new works get lost among the programme as a whole. This suggests that the best way to implement the new strategy is to create a festival of new work that runs for a finite period every year. The advantage is that Downstage can build a new in-house brand (e.g. The Downstage Fresh New Zealand Festival) that highlights its position as the home of new New Zealand theatre and concentrates theatre-goers’ attention on the new works being staged for the duration of the festival. It also has the advantage of being a strategy that can grow as Downstage builds an audience for the new brand. What might begin as a 2 or 3-month festival of new works, could eventually become a 6-month season or longer, as theatre-goers gain confidence in the first-class quality of the work being staged. Of course, while a festival would concentrate the advantages of the new strategy, it would also concentrate the potential disadvantages. First, the risk of reduced ticket sales would be concentrated over one continuous period, possibly causing cash flow problems. Secondly, producing multiple new works back-to-back would also present management and logistical challenges for the development process of each work and so require careful planning and organization in advance. Finally, while marketing the whole becomes easier, there would still be the challenge of marketing the individual new works within the whole.

Management

Consequently, in light of the significant risks and challenges of the new strategy, it is vital that Downstage not only address the artistic needs of the strategy, but the management needs as well. Regardless of whether a new festival is launched or some other approach is taken, if the new strategy is to succeed, the theatre needs effective marketing and business managers, together with a management structure that empowers the contribution these managers make to the organization. In particular, Downstage needs to re-structure its management hierarchy so that the general manager no longer reports to the artistic director. Because marketing and business management skills are so important to the success of the new strategy and to the operation of the theatre generally, it is unwise for these functions to be the ultimate responsibility of an artistic leader who may have little or no expertise in the relevant fields. For this reason, the Downstage management hierarchy must rank the general manger side-by-side with the artistic director. Both leaders must be appointed directly by, and report directly to, the board; and neither can have the authority to overrule the other’s decisions in their area of responsibility. Only this structure will ensure the general manager is able to deliver a sound business platform on which the artistic director can implement the theatre’s creative direction.

Long term opportunities

Finally, the new strategy presents Downstage with two longer term opportunities: intellectual property and touring.

Intellectual property

Because of the greater financial investment required from the theatre in the development of new New Zealand work and the greater associated risks, it is appropriate for Downstage to benefit from the intellectual property created in the work. Whether this is structured as an ownership share of the intellectual property, or as simply the right to a certain percentage of any royalties, Downstage is entitled to benefit from any future performances of shows that it has premiered which then go on to be staged elsewhere. While few new works are likely to provide any downstream returns, the low cost of contracting for a share in future royalties at the outset, together with the potentially high returns from a smash hit, mean it’s well worthwhile to insert the appropriate clauses in the commissioning contract.

Touring

Having invested in the creative development of first-class new theatre, touring successful works outside of Wellington offers Downstage the opportunity to recoup more of its initial investment. However, because touring is not the theatre’s core business, before it could take advantage of this opportunity, Downstage would need to develop expertise in marketing shows elsewhere and in the logistics of moving a company from place to place. More significantly, the theatre would also need to hire additional staff to manage these tours, as it won’t be feasible for those responsible for the Wellington programme to devote time to touring. Therefore, to take up the opportunity presented by touring, Downstage would need to invest in creating a separate business unit within the organization. As this would take additional capital and entail greater risk, it should not be part of the theatre’s immediate plans. Nevertheless, once the theatre has a sound financial base, the opportunity is such that touring warrants further analysis and the preparation of a business plan to test its viability.

Andre Anderson

Producer

‘Maui’

Zia Lopez             posted 11 Apr 2008, 09:38 PM / edited 11 Apr 2008, 10:45 PM

An article that may be of interest at this point –

“Filling the boards of arts companies with business appointees has been a dismal failure that has stifled creativity. That is the view of the international arts entrepreneur Justin Macdonnell, who wants a radical rethink of the way arts companies are run. For too long arts companies had been urged by funding bodies to simulate the business sector, he said yesterday at the first in a series of breakfast forums, Arts And Public Life, held by the arts organisation Currency House. “Who has not been told that they need to get more people with ‘business skills’ on their board, more people with financial, legal, marketing prowess to guide and restrain the wilful artist – as though it were the arts that regularly had the corporate crashes, bankruptcies and shady dealings?” Macdonnell said. “Throughout the English-speaking world, the board system of governance in the not-for-profit sector has been a miserable failure.”

Rest of article:- http://www.smh.com.au/news/arts/businesslike-arts-a-failure-says-entrepreneur/2008/04/02/1206851005398.html

MOSHE BANNERMAN    posted 12 Apr 2008, 01:30 PM / edited 12 Apr 2008, 02:21 PM

“Downstage – Strategic Proposal – Business Analysis … Intellectual property.  Because of the greater financial investment required from the theatre in the development of new New Zealand work and the greater associated risks, it is appropriate for Downstage to benefit from the intellectual property created in the work. Whether this is structured as an ownership share of the intellectual property, or as simply the right to a certain percentage of any royalties, Downstage is entitled to benefit from any future performances of shows that it has premiered which then go on to be staged elsewhere. While few new works are likely to provide any downstream returns, the low cost of contracting for a share in future royalties at the outset, together with the potentially high returns from a smash hit, mean it’s well worthwhile to insert the appropriate clauses in the commissioning contract … Andre Anderson. Producer. Maui.”

Why do producers like Andre Anderson so want to take money away from stage writers? This is not the first time. It’s appened before – attempts to eat away at the standard 10% of the box. If producers feel there is “greater financial investment required from the theatre in the development of new New Zealand work and the greater associated risks” (and surely both these claims are questionable), and that they should be compensated in some manner, then let them get their bloody compensation somewhere else and not out of the poor wretched writers’ pockets.

Of course as soon as a writer confronts a producer and says, “Hey, Andre, you show me how much you’re earning and I’ll show you how much I am!” they back off and start blustering about any future royalty percentage to a producer being in addition to the writer’s 10%. But this encumbrance simply drags down the work’s future prospects and the writer’s income. Greedy fuckers. …

Come to think of it, since so many new plays never get produced, it’s the writer who should be paid a premium for taking the risk to write at all.

neil furby             posted 14 Apr 2008, 11:04 AM / edited 14 Apr 2008, 02:39 PM

Andre. May I commend you on your informative posted comments on this forum and the time you must have spent composing them.

The proposal to have a “New Zealand Theatre” is a worthy idea but to use Downstage as the production company is not. “The Downstage” image does not register with the general public and their management structure is not functioning. In the words of the bard you “cannot make a silk purse out of a sows ear”.

To promote New Zealand Theatre it should be produced in the manner of your successful Maui and have such companies as Aviv Productions, Inc and Te Ao Marama Partners to produce it. Let’s not modestly perform our world-class theatre in an ailing little theatre in Wellington City but let us tour it around New Zealand and then the world. Now is the time.