Last May I posted a blog entitled "The Corcoran Conundrum - Woes of a Great Art Museum." It detailed the sad history of the renowned Corcoran Gallery in Washington D.C. - various management and governance missteps that lead it a point where its very survival was at stake. (You can read the post at the archive section to the left of this page). At that time the Gallery, to survive, was considering a collaboration with the University of Maryland regarding the Corcoran School of Art and Design, and the National Gallery of Art (NGA) for display of art displaced by renovation of the NGA East Building.
On February 19, after months of secrecy, the proverbial "bolt out of the blue" struck with the news that the Gallery had reached an arrangement not with the University of Maryland but rather with the private George Washington University (GWU), and the National Gallery of Art. It is a far more comprehensive scheme than the first. In several weeks the final details will be announced but the outline is as follows:
GWU will absorb the School of Art & Design and be responsible for the Gallery's iconic 17th Street Beaux Arts building, including the millions of dollars needed for repair. The NGA will, after study, if you pardon the expression "cherry pick" what art from the Corcoran's 17,000 piece collection it will display in DC, either at its facility or at the Corcoran itself in what is will ne called a "Legacy Gallery." The NGA will also use space at the Corcoran to expand its program of contemporary art exhibits. What art the NGA doesn't want will be donated to museums around the country.
The Corcoran's collection of American art, photography, and contemporary art is held in high regard.. In this arrangement the collection will be dismantled and dispersed. The Corcoran Gallery of Art will cease to exist as a discrete institution. Not known is what will become of the Gallery and School's staff.
The news of the deal was greeted in the DC press with a sad resignation, tinged with some anger. One writer called it "euthanasia" and The Washington Post's headline announcing the scheme labeled its a "takeover." There were also post mortems on how such an arrangement should have become necessary in the first place - citing for example mismanagement and a board more interested in socially connecting than in collecting art. The sadness focused on the loss of an independent DC cultural institution (the city's largest in private hands) with a history dating back to 1869.
Washington DC has long struggled with its own self identity, to draw distinction from its just being thought of as a "company town." So the dissolution of one of its more prominent homegrown institutions understandably is a source of emotional distress.
The Corcoran had become a sinking ship, burdened by increasingly large annual deficits, shrinking attendance, a crumbly infrastructure and uncertainty as to its course. The GWU/NGA plan then has reason to be viewed as a rescue. A number of life rings will be thrown out to preserve largely what is important - the art and the building. There was likely no alternative but an arrangement of this kind. Without it, there would remain only cockamamie ideas, like the one floated by the Corcoran board in 2012 to sell its building.
Or worse - the example presented in the announcement March 27 that the Delaware Museum of Art intends to sell as many as four artworks, valued at $30 million, to replenish its endowment and repay debt from a facilities expansion. The museum's director said the board decision was a "last resort" to avoid the museum closing its doors. Such a sale for those purposes is counter to the central core of museum ethics and mission - holding collections in trust for the public.
Comparatively the proposed Corcoran deal is the better alternative, or perhaps the lesser of two evils. In both cases over time the governing boards and management lost their bearings. Perhaps it was because they succumbed to the siren song of facility expansion. What ever the reason, the institution suffers, or in the Corcoran's case, dies. Let us hope the DC plan goes through. The solution shows a degree of creativity and there will be some important salvage. But you can't gloss over the fact that it is a sad denouement.
Monday, March 31, 2014
Monday, March 3, 2014
"Vamp 'Til Ready..."
I have fallen behind in my posting schedule, thus the above title, which I will explain shortly. My excuse, aside from the large hippo named Procrastination, is that we are busy planning our daughter's wedding at the end of March, or rather I am observing that activity and warming up the checkbook. Such a happy event inevitably can lead to loss of focus on regular matters.
I learned of the phrase "Vamp 'Til Ready..." in December 1965. At the time I was serving as Assistant Manager of the first recital series produced by Lincoln Center. It was called "Great Performers at Philharmonic Hall" (now called Avery Fisher Hall). The series featured some great artists, such as soprano Birgit Nilsson, violinist Yeheudi Menuhin and the phenomenal pianist Martha Argerich in her American debut. We also included non-classical musicians, namely Joan Baez and Duke Ellington.
Ellington is the center of this story, although I have a good one about Ms. Baez that I might get to another day. Edward "Duke" Ellington (1899-1974) was one of the great jazz performers and composers in our musical history. In discussions with his office we asked if he would be willing to write an original composition for the performance. He agreed.
One of my jobs was to prepare information for each concert's printed program and so I needed to know the name of his composition. I was told only the Duke had that information and that I could talk to him on a certain day between the hours of 2 and 3 a.m. He was clearly a night person, which I was, and am, not. I reached him on the phone and asked for the title. There was a pause and he indicated he hadn't given it much thought. I pressed him (as much as I could at age 24 and in the wee hours of the morning) and he finally gave it to me, almost in the form of suggestion. I admit now I have forgotten it, but it was something like a "Study in _________," - a bit nondescript.
Another job I had was to look after the artists the day of their performances, and any rehearsal before. Ellington declined a rehearsal so the first time I met him was about 45 minutes before the 3 p.m. "curtain." I went to his dressing room and found him there, still informally dressed, seated at a spinet piano with about six of his band members in the room as well. Importantly, also present was his longtime arranger and collaborator Billy Strayhorn. Duke was playing musical lines on the piano and a number of the men were transcribing notes onto part manuscripts. Strayhorn would offer suggestions as well as joining in the transcription task. Periodically a musician would stand up and wave his part in the sir to dry the ink.
Clearly I was watching a composition in the final making, only 30 minutes before the concert's start. I don't remember if I broke into a sweat, but nervous is an understated description of my state. I checked back every ten minutes or so, found the same activity and finally caught Ellington's eye and tapped my wristwatch. He gave me a benevolent smile and went back to work.
The witching hour of 3 p.m. arrived. Still wavings of music manuscript in the air. At 3:10 - now quite desperate - I got the Duke's ear, reminded him of the time and asked his advice of what I should do. He said calmly "Come back in 10 minutes." By this time there was evidence of audience impatience. I returned to the dressing room as instructed, found some men still scribbling but this time Ellington was dressed. He said "Let's go" and he and I - no other musicians - descended in the elevator to the stage level.
A stagehand was ready to open the door to the stage, bare except for a grand piano and seats and stands for the musicians. As the door was opening I asked the Duke- by the way a most charming and polite man, - what he was going to do. "Oh," he said, "I'll just vamp 'til ready."
So he did, "vamping" meant improvising at the piano or noodling. He also talked some to the audience. Maybe 15 minutes passed and then the door opened and the 10 members of the band came on stage, carrying their now dry scores of the original composition. Of course Ellington standards, such as "Take The A Train" were also played. The concert was a great success.
So I hope you didn't mind if, with this story, I have vamped until my next post about nonprofit issues is ready. 'Til then...
I learned of the phrase "Vamp 'Til Ready..." in December 1965. At the time I was serving as Assistant Manager of the first recital series produced by Lincoln Center. It was called "Great Performers at Philharmonic Hall" (now called Avery Fisher Hall). The series featured some great artists, such as soprano Birgit Nilsson, violinist Yeheudi Menuhin and the phenomenal pianist Martha Argerich in her American debut. We also included non-classical musicians, namely Joan Baez and Duke Ellington.
Ellington is the center of this story, although I have a good one about Ms. Baez that I might get to another day. Edward "Duke" Ellington (1899-1974) was one of the great jazz performers and composers in our musical history. In discussions with his office we asked if he would be willing to write an original composition for the performance. He agreed.
One of my jobs was to prepare information for each concert's printed program and so I needed to know the name of his composition. I was told only the Duke had that information and that I could talk to him on a certain day between the hours of 2 and 3 a.m. He was clearly a night person, which I was, and am, not. I reached him on the phone and asked for the title. There was a pause and he indicated he hadn't given it much thought. I pressed him (as much as I could at age 24 and in the wee hours of the morning) and he finally gave it to me, almost in the form of suggestion. I admit now I have forgotten it, but it was something like a "Study in _________," - a bit nondescript.
Another job I had was to look after the artists the day of their performances, and any rehearsal before. Ellington declined a rehearsal so the first time I met him was about 45 minutes before the 3 p.m. "curtain." I went to his dressing room and found him there, still informally dressed, seated at a spinet piano with about six of his band members in the room as well. Importantly, also present was his longtime arranger and collaborator Billy Strayhorn. Duke was playing musical lines on the piano and a number of the men were transcribing notes onto part manuscripts. Strayhorn would offer suggestions as well as joining in the transcription task. Periodically a musician would stand up and wave his part in the sir to dry the ink.
Clearly I was watching a composition in the final making, only 30 minutes before the concert's start. I don't remember if I broke into a sweat, but nervous is an understated description of my state. I checked back every ten minutes or so, found the same activity and finally caught Ellington's eye and tapped my wristwatch. He gave me a benevolent smile and went back to work.
The witching hour of 3 p.m. arrived. Still wavings of music manuscript in the air. At 3:10 - now quite desperate - I got the Duke's ear, reminded him of the time and asked his advice of what I should do. He said calmly "Come back in 10 minutes." By this time there was evidence of audience impatience. I returned to the dressing room as instructed, found some men still scribbling but this time Ellington was dressed. He said "Let's go" and he and I - no other musicians - descended in the elevator to the stage level.
A stagehand was ready to open the door to the stage, bare except for a grand piano and seats and stands for the musicians. As the door was opening I asked the Duke- by the way a most charming and polite man, - what he was going to do. "Oh," he said, "I'll just vamp 'til ready."
So he did, "vamping" meant improvising at the piano or noodling. He also talked some to the audience. Maybe 15 minutes passed and then the door opened and the 10 members of the band came on stage, carrying their now dry scores of the original composition. Of course Ellington standards, such as "Take The A Train" were also played. The concert was a great success.
So I hope you didn't mind if, with this story, I have vamped until my next post about nonprofit issues is ready. 'Til then...
Thursday, January 30, 2014
The Perils of the Detroit Institute of Arts and a Little Bit of History
You would have to have lived in a cave if you weren't aware, at least to some degree, of the perils of the Detroit Institute of Arts (DIA) .To briefly summarize, the City of Detroit, in debt to the tune of $18 billion, last December formally declared bankruptcy. Not long thereafter, reports emerged that the city's creditors, the largest of which are those who are owed pensions, were looking to sale of the DIA art collection to help relieve the debt. William Schambra in The Chronicle of Philanthropy writes that the collection is "the most valuable remaining disposable asset" of the city.
Christie's, the prominent art auction house, was commissioned by the city's Emergency Manager to appraise the fair market value of the collection, particularly the works purchased by the City of Detroit. The response was a range from $452 million to $866 million. Some then weighed in that was too conservative.
Then the cavalry - in the form of 10 major foundations (Kresge, Ford, W.K. Kellogg, etc.) - rode in, apparently, to the rescue. They have pledged $370 million, with the major beneficiaries being the City, retirees and employees and the DIA. But there are conditions. The State of Michigan has to match it. The Governor recently pledged $350 million, pending legislative approval. The DIA has to itself provide $100 million for the City pension fund - each over a period of years. Another condition is that the DIA become a nonprofit organization and not an agency of city government. The matching conditions especially represent a high hurdle. Presumably all this, assuming it can come to fruition, would protect the DIA collections from the auction block.
Certainly the prospect of a selling off the art is a very distressing one. Major works would be removed from public view, as most museums cannot compete in the hot auction market. The Institute would be gutted, representing, as some have said, an attack on the soul of the city itself. Ironically, if it weren't for the emotional public response to the possibility of losing the DIA collections, the foundations might have lost one rationale for their unprecedented use of private funds to help bail out a city. These foundations do however have longstanding relationships with Detroit.
Why has this situation come to pass, aside from the economic reasons for the bankruptcy? One could understand how the creditors would be attracted to the DIA collection, with the frequent reports of astronomical prices for art being fetched at auction. The other reason is more basic - the DIA is owned by the city, thus vulnerable, and here is where the history lesson come in.
When the American Museum of Natural History and the Metropolitan Museum of Art were founded, before any hole was dug or even much material collected, an agreement was reached with the City of New York whereby the trustees would own and acquire the collections, and the City be responsible for the real estate and its maintenance. The years were 1869 and 1870 respectively, and the author of this arrangement was one of the museums' founders, the lawyer, and later Ambassador to Great Britain, Joseph H. Choate, a great grandfather of mine. I have been researching his life and career.
In a 1917 memorial to Choate, the Natural History Museum's president Henry Fairfield Osborn described a "wise union of public and private endeavors…Choate worked an entirely new conception, namely, provision for the independent and untrammeled management of the museum by the most intelligent men of the City combined with its establishment as a public institution, to be built and partly maintained by public taxation, and to be endowed and enriched with specimens brought together through private gifts and donations.”
The DIA was established in 1885. It is of course a pity its founders didn't follow the New York City model. If it had, its collections would not be at risk today. Let us hope the complex arrangements to satisfy Detroit's creditors will work out. The goal is to keep the art in Detroit, but more broadly to lessen the possibility that city-owned museums' collections elsewhere will be similarly exposed, should their owners face bankruptcy. Perhaps the stewards of such collections should take heed and build their firewalls now. Forewarned is forearmed.
Christie's, the prominent art auction house, was commissioned by the city's Emergency Manager to appraise the fair market value of the collection, particularly the works purchased by the City of Detroit. The response was a range from $452 million to $866 million. Some then weighed in that was too conservative.
Then the cavalry - in the form of 10 major foundations (Kresge, Ford, W.K. Kellogg, etc.) - rode in, apparently, to the rescue. They have pledged $370 million, with the major beneficiaries being the City, retirees and employees and the DIA. But there are conditions. The State of Michigan has to match it. The Governor recently pledged $350 million, pending legislative approval. The DIA has to itself provide $100 million for the City pension fund - each over a period of years. Another condition is that the DIA become a nonprofit organization and not an agency of city government. The matching conditions especially represent a high hurdle. Presumably all this, assuming it can come to fruition, would protect the DIA collections from the auction block.
Certainly the prospect of a selling off the art is a very distressing one. Major works would be removed from public view, as most museums cannot compete in the hot auction market. The Institute would be gutted, representing, as some have said, an attack on the soul of the city itself. Ironically, if it weren't for the emotional public response to the possibility of losing the DIA collections, the foundations might have lost one rationale for their unprecedented use of private funds to help bail out a city. These foundations do however have longstanding relationships with Detroit.
Why has this situation come to pass, aside from the economic reasons for the bankruptcy? One could understand how the creditors would be attracted to the DIA collection, with the frequent reports of astronomical prices for art being fetched at auction. The other reason is more basic - the DIA is owned by the city, thus vulnerable, and here is where the history lesson come in.
When the American Museum of Natural History and the Metropolitan Museum of Art were founded, before any hole was dug or even much material collected, an agreement was reached with the City of New York whereby the trustees would own and acquire the collections, and the City be responsible for the real estate and its maintenance. The years were 1869 and 1870 respectively, and the author of this arrangement was one of the museums' founders, the lawyer, and later Ambassador to Great Britain, Joseph H. Choate, a great grandfather of mine. I have been researching his life and career.
In a 1917 memorial to Choate, the Natural History Museum's president Henry Fairfield Osborn described a "wise union of public and private endeavors…Choate worked an entirely new conception, namely, provision for the independent and untrammeled management of the museum by the most intelligent men of the City combined with its establishment as a public institution, to be built and partly maintained by public taxation, and to be endowed and enriched with specimens brought together through private gifts and donations.”
The DIA was established in 1885. It is of course a pity its founders didn't follow the New York City model. If it had, its collections would not be at risk today. Let us hope the complex arrangements to satisfy Detroit's creditors will work out. The goal is to keep the art in Detroit, but more broadly to lessen the possibility that city-owned museums' collections elsewhere will be similarly exposed, should their owners face bankruptcy. Perhaps the stewards of such collections should take heed and build their firewalls now. Forewarned is forearmed.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
New Year's List of Resolutions for Nonprofits
As 2014 is upon us. I thought I would review what I wrote in 2013 to form the basis of a resolutions list for nonprofit leaders. It might even encourage you to return to my blogs in case you missed some, all of which can be accessed in the blog archive on this page.
I resolve to: look on fundraising as an organization-wide team effort not just solely the responsibility of the director of development. In my post of January 24, 2013 "Oh-Oh...disturbing stats about nonprofits fundraisers" I cited a nationwide study that showed difficulty in filling senior development positions and widespread dissatisfaction among chief fundraisers about their jobs and even careers. I suggested that one reason for the unhappiness is that too often an organization will assume the responsibility of raising money rests just with the development department. I urged a team approach - staff and board - in an effort to create an institutional culture conducive to philanthropy, about which the philanthropist Eli Broad said: "it is not charity, Charity is writing checks. Philanthropy is an investment where you can see return."
I resolve to; examine closely the purpose and design of any new program, building or otherwise, to be sure it fits into the architecture and mission of the organization, including the program's sustainability, before embarkation. The post of February 28. 2013 was entitled "Nonprofits - Get With The Program!' and cited personal experience about what became a successful building project in Richmond VA. There are far too many examples of projects/programs undertaken because of a promised gift or a "now that's a great idea" consensus and later to have either foundered or ultimately done damage to the institution. The old adage of looking before you leap still makes sense.
I resolve to: question the purpose of any meeting before calling or attending it. My post of April 2, 2013 "Join the Meeting Revolution" addressed the growing widespread unhappiness in every kind of business regarding what is called meeting glut. I enjoyed a cartoon in a recent New Yorker magazine (12/23) that showed a number of people seated in a semicircle in a room, where one pipes up and says: "Refresh my memory -why do we meet once a week?" Everybody's time is a scarce commodity and should not be squandered needlessly. I suggested some techniques to make meetings, should they be necessary, more efficient and productive.
I resolve to: respect the value of board members' knowledge and experience, not just their bank accounts. The blog of June 13 "Mr. X's Dilemma - Stay or Go on a Nonprofit Board?" described a case where a prominent retired executive, new to a board, at his first meeting asked a probing question about governance and was in a later phone chided by the board chair and told to back off in future meetings. He wasn't sure he should continue to serve on a board where right out of the gate its leadership sought to stifle him. The piece received a good deal of comment including one I published in full on July 9 "Riveting Response to my Mr. X Post..." My correspondent wrote in detail his experience serving on several boards where he found his knowledge and insight was valued by leadership almost in direct proportion to the degree of his financial support. He called this "the Sugar Daddy theory of nonprofit governance." His provocative comments are well worth your review.
I resolve to: husband my organizations' financial resources. This would seem to be obvious but in my post of October 4, 2013 entitled "Shutdowns" I wrote about the sad case of New York City' Opera's bankruptcy. One reason for its demise according to James Stewart in The New York Times was both the mismanagement of its financial investments and at the same time major invasions of its endowment. The figures are astonishing. In 2001 the endowment was $51.6 million; in June 2013 the market value was just $5.2 million. In the May 10 post "the Corcoran Conundrum - Woes of a Great Art Museum" I described how management (board and staff) blunders over the years had sapped the museum's resources to the point that the board in 2012 had actually considered selling its iconic downtown D.C Beaux Arts building home. Apparently the situation at the museum has become, if not completely resolved, at least calmer. The New York City Opera however is kaput, the shards of its busted piggy bank laying at its feet.
The above list is selfishly incomplete. I am sure you have your own New Year's resolutions. With them I urge consistent application (me too!). If you belong to a gym or health club you have seen the phenomenon where in January the place is packed - then the numbers diminish as the weeks go by. Managing and governing a nonprofit is one of the most difficult of all business enterprises. Stay the course. May you have organizational success and personal fulfillment in 2014.
I resolve to: look on fundraising as an organization-wide team effort not just solely the responsibility of the director of development. In my post of January 24, 2013 "Oh-Oh...disturbing stats about nonprofits fundraisers" I cited a nationwide study that showed difficulty in filling senior development positions and widespread dissatisfaction among chief fundraisers about their jobs and even careers. I suggested that one reason for the unhappiness is that too often an organization will assume the responsibility of raising money rests just with the development department. I urged a team approach - staff and board - in an effort to create an institutional culture conducive to philanthropy, about which the philanthropist Eli Broad said: "it is not charity, Charity is writing checks. Philanthropy is an investment where you can see return."
I resolve to; examine closely the purpose and design of any new program, building or otherwise, to be sure it fits into the architecture and mission of the organization, including the program's sustainability, before embarkation. The post of February 28. 2013 was entitled "Nonprofits - Get With The Program!' and cited personal experience about what became a successful building project in Richmond VA. There are far too many examples of projects/programs undertaken because of a promised gift or a "now that's a great idea" consensus and later to have either foundered or ultimately done damage to the institution. The old adage of looking before you leap still makes sense.
I resolve to: question the purpose of any meeting before calling or attending it. My post of April 2, 2013 "Join the Meeting Revolution" addressed the growing widespread unhappiness in every kind of business regarding what is called meeting glut. I enjoyed a cartoon in a recent New Yorker magazine (12/23) that showed a number of people seated in a semicircle in a room, where one pipes up and says: "Refresh my memory -why do we meet once a week?" Everybody's time is a scarce commodity and should not be squandered needlessly. I suggested some techniques to make meetings, should they be necessary, more efficient and productive.
I resolve to: respect the value of board members' knowledge and experience, not just their bank accounts. The blog of June 13 "Mr. X's Dilemma - Stay or Go on a Nonprofit Board?" described a case where a prominent retired executive, new to a board, at his first meeting asked a probing question about governance and was in a later phone chided by the board chair and told to back off in future meetings. He wasn't sure he should continue to serve on a board where right out of the gate its leadership sought to stifle him. The piece received a good deal of comment including one I published in full on July 9 "Riveting Response to my Mr. X Post..." My correspondent wrote in detail his experience serving on several boards where he found his knowledge and insight was valued by leadership almost in direct proportion to the degree of his financial support. He called this "the Sugar Daddy theory of nonprofit governance." His provocative comments are well worth your review.
I resolve to: husband my organizations' financial resources. This would seem to be obvious but in my post of October 4, 2013 entitled "Shutdowns" I wrote about the sad case of New York City' Opera's bankruptcy. One reason for its demise according to James Stewart in The New York Times was both the mismanagement of its financial investments and at the same time major invasions of its endowment. The figures are astonishing. In 2001 the endowment was $51.6 million; in June 2013 the market value was just $5.2 million. In the May 10 post "the Corcoran Conundrum - Woes of a Great Art Museum" I described how management (board and staff) blunders over the years had sapped the museum's resources to the point that the board in 2012 had actually considered selling its iconic downtown D.C Beaux Arts building home. Apparently the situation at the museum has become, if not completely resolved, at least calmer. The New York City Opera however is kaput, the shards of its busted piggy bank laying at its feet.
The above list is selfishly incomplete. I am sure you have your own New Year's resolutions. With them I urge consistent application (me too!). If you belong to a gym or health club you have seen the phenomenon where in January the place is packed - then the numbers diminish as the weeks go by. Managing and governing a nonprofit is one of the most difficult of all business enterprises. Stay the course. May you have organizational success and personal fulfillment in 2014.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Just a quickie...
This will be a short post. I haven't written anything since October but I have a good excuse. On November first I underwent surgery for a total (left) knee replacement and have since been undergoing rehab. Those of you who have taken that elective procedure (what a friend called "a self-inflicted wound") know that the operation and hospitalization are the easy part.. it's the weeks and even months of rehab that try the soul. I am one month out and things are going pretty well. But if there is any test for the old saw "patience is a virtue" this is it.
I am writing for two reasons. First is to be true to my inner pledge, taken when I started this website in April 2011 to post monthly. Here I am just under the wire for November 2013.
Secondly is to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving, with the hope that the "weather event" wasn't too disruptive. We are expecting 10 for dinner...it may end up being less. I know we all have much to be thankful for. True to the purpose of this site, I want to offer thanks for all those people - paid and unpaid - who work for, or contribute to, nonprofits. They - you -- mean so much to the health of this sector, which in turn, makes up a critical part of the fabric of the nation. I know some of you who toil in the nonprofit vineyard may not agree with the health description above, given the vicissitudes of the financial environment. Nevertheless despite all the challenges, nonprofits press on doing wonderful work.! Thank you for that.
More substance in December. Gobble,gobble.
I am writing for two reasons. First is to be true to my inner pledge, taken when I started this website in April 2011 to post monthly. Here I am just under the wire for November 2013.
Secondly is to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving, with the hope that the "weather event" wasn't too disruptive. We are expecting 10 for dinner...it may end up being less. I know we all have much to be thankful for. True to the purpose of this site, I want to offer thanks for all those people - paid and unpaid - who work for, or contribute to, nonprofits. They - you -- mean so much to the health of this sector, which in turn, makes up a critical part of the fabric of the nation. I know some of you who toil in the nonprofit vineyard may not agree with the health description above, given the vicissitudes of the financial environment. Nevertheless despite all the challenges, nonprofits press on doing wonderful work.! Thank you for that.
More substance in December. Gobble,gobble.
Friday, October 4, 2013
Shutdowns
The news, as I write this, is all about the shutdown of the federal government precipitated by a small number of Republican congressmen obsessed with Obamacare. I won't tarry on this subject, as opinions and reports are legion elsewhere. I want to concentrate on two other important shutdowns- those of the New York City Opera and the Minnesota Orchestra.
Although the orchestra is still in business technically, it is frozen in a labor dispute that has dragged on for a year. The issue of course is money. On October 1st the musicians rejected the latest - and fourth- offer from management. Furthermore its music director since 2003, the highly respected Osmo Vanska resigned - as he promised - if no agreement could be reached in time for the orchestra to prepare for concerts at Carnegie Hall this fall. The orchestra cancelled its 2012-13 season and won't open its 2013-14 season in Minneapolis scheduled for October 4th. Even the solution offered by the renowned mediator, former Senator George Mitchell, failed.
Mitchell, who had helped broker peace in Northern Ireland and been a special envoy in the Middle East, ran into the special environment that exists in labor negotiations in non profit arts organizations. Many years ago (40 to be exact) I wrote my thesis at the Harvard Business School on collective bargaining in symphony orchestras. My professor, James J. Healy was a nationally known arbitrator in numerous labor-management disputes. In discussing my paper with him, he shook his head and said: "My goodness, I've never run across anything quite like these situations."
Here's a current example. There is now a dispute between the management of the San Francisco Ballet and its dancers. The dancers, in a recent statement, said they are seeking "provisions that
demonstrate a sufficient level of respect" and "protections against bullying by the artistic staff." You can write in salary and benefit provisions as well as basic work conditions, but it is difficult to craft language that will successfully guarantee respect.
In Minnesota, according to The New York Times, players called the last management proposal "artistically unsustainable" referring to the concern that too low salaries (latest proposal was an average of $104, 500 a year) would mean the orchestra would not be competitive in the market for the best players. Well, unless the sides can get together, there won't be an orchestra.... period.
[Speaking of average annual salaries and labor disputes, the stagehands union on October 2nd struck New York's Carnegie Hall, causing cancellation of the opening night gala with the Philadelphian Orchestra. At Carnegie Hall, the average total compensation for a stagehand is over $400,000 a year . No comment.]
The October 2nd announcement of bankruptcy and folding of the New York City Opera is a very sad story This company, now in its 70th year, was started as "the people's opera" and was housed for years in the relatively small City Center. Offering lower ticket prices and often more adventurous programming than the august Metropolitan, it also was the starting stage for the likes of Beverly Sills and Samuel Ramey. In 1965 it moved to the State Theatre in Lincoln Center, across the plaza from the Met. Here is where some think the trouble began. The theater was much bigger with more seats to fill, higher fixed costs and poor acoustics to boot.. Deficits began to mount.
In 2009 the theater renamed the David H. Koch Theater began a long-term process of renovation.. In 2011, City Opera management decided not to produce a season there, electing rather the next year to perform in a number of venues elsewhere in the city. To finance the "dark" year, the endowment was raided to the tune of $ 24 million. The number of performances fell, as well as the size of the audience, along with the finances. A last minute fundraising appeal failed. At the time of declaring bankruptcy, City Opera was earning more from its thrift shop than from its endowment.
Clearly along the way there were strategic errors on the part of management, compounded by the effects of the "Great Recession."
In both the cases of the Minnesota Orchestra and City Opera, their shutdowns mean a slice of a city's soul is removed. We need all the soul we can get these days. The arts and music give us solace; politics, especially in D. C, provide the opposite.
.
Although the orchestra is still in business technically, it is frozen in a labor dispute that has dragged on for a year. The issue of course is money. On October 1st the musicians rejected the latest - and fourth- offer from management. Furthermore its music director since 2003, the highly respected Osmo Vanska resigned - as he promised - if no agreement could be reached in time for the orchestra to prepare for concerts at Carnegie Hall this fall. The orchestra cancelled its 2012-13 season and won't open its 2013-14 season in Minneapolis scheduled for October 4th. Even the solution offered by the renowned mediator, former Senator George Mitchell, failed.
Mitchell, who had helped broker peace in Northern Ireland and been a special envoy in the Middle East, ran into the special environment that exists in labor negotiations in non profit arts organizations. Many years ago (40 to be exact) I wrote my thesis at the Harvard Business School on collective bargaining in symphony orchestras. My professor, James J. Healy was a nationally known arbitrator in numerous labor-management disputes. In discussing my paper with him, he shook his head and said: "My goodness, I've never run across anything quite like these situations."
Here's a current example. There is now a dispute between the management of the San Francisco Ballet and its dancers. The dancers, in a recent statement, said they are seeking "provisions that
demonstrate a sufficient level of respect" and "protections against bullying by the artistic staff." You can write in salary and benefit provisions as well as basic work conditions, but it is difficult to craft language that will successfully guarantee respect.
In Minnesota, according to The New York Times, players called the last management proposal "artistically unsustainable" referring to the concern that too low salaries (latest proposal was an average of $104, 500 a year) would mean the orchestra would not be competitive in the market for the best players. Well, unless the sides can get together, there won't be an orchestra.... period.
[Speaking of average annual salaries and labor disputes, the stagehands union on October 2nd struck New York's Carnegie Hall, causing cancellation of the opening night gala with the Philadelphian Orchestra. At Carnegie Hall, the average total compensation for a stagehand is over $400,000 a year . No comment.]
The October 2nd announcement of bankruptcy and folding of the New York City Opera is a very sad story This company, now in its 70th year, was started as "the people's opera" and was housed for years in the relatively small City Center. Offering lower ticket prices and often more adventurous programming than the august Metropolitan, it also was the starting stage for the likes of Beverly Sills and Samuel Ramey. In 1965 it moved to the State Theatre in Lincoln Center, across the plaza from the Met. Here is where some think the trouble began. The theater was much bigger with more seats to fill, higher fixed costs and poor acoustics to boot.. Deficits began to mount.
In 2009 the theater renamed the David H. Koch Theater began a long-term process of renovation.. In 2011, City Opera management decided not to produce a season there, electing rather the next year to perform in a number of venues elsewhere in the city. To finance the "dark" year, the endowment was raided to the tune of $ 24 million. The number of performances fell, as well as the size of the audience, along with the finances. A last minute fundraising appeal failed. At the time of declaring bankruptcy, City Opera was earning more from its thrift shop than from its endowment.
Clearly along the way there were strategic errors on the part of management, compounded by the effects of the "Great Recession."
In both the cases of the Minnesota Orchestra and City Opera, their shutdowns mean a slice of a city's soul is removed. We need all the soul we can get these days. The arts and music give us solace; politics, especially in D. C, provide the opposite.
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Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Summer Idyll for a Nonprofiteer
I began writing this in the kitchen of a family house on an island in Penobscot Bay, Maine where we had been rusticating the first two weeks of August. It was raining, otherwise I'd have been outside, on the water or the 9 hole golf course. There is no TV, lots of books and we were largely free of the endless streams of information and commercial entreaties experienced elsewhere in time and space. Pausing to reflect on the past year since last on the island - as the non-profit world continues its struggle with the effects of the recession and faces challenges of internal governance - I realize that since late July I had been on an idyll. It's a word little used these frantic times. It means experiencing a period of calm and contentment.
Being in beautiful places in Vermont, New Hampshire and then Maine helped. My wife and I were lucky to begin our idyll at Marlboro, Vermont where we visited friends and attended two concerts at the Marlboro Music Festival. This event, held on the lovely campus of Marlboro College, has just celebrated its 63rd season. It is devoted exclusively to chamber music and was founded by the great pianist Rudolph Serkin and friends. Its present artistic directors are the renowned pianists Richard Goode and Mitsuko Uchida.
Marlboro Music is unique. Over a five week period there are only two public performances a week. The community of about 80 musicians, a mixture of internationally known older artists and younger performers are formed into 60-80 groups, which have the luxury of unlimited rehearsal time. Typically only about 20% of works rehearsed are ever performed publically. Only those deemed to have reached especially excellent results will be programmed. As a result, the repertoire and personnel are announced to the public only a week or so in advance.
Furthermore, the program handed out to concertgoers is a photocopied single sided sheet, simply listing the pieces and names of performers. There are no musicians' biographies and quotations from music critics. There is however a handsome booklet available that gives more information about Marlboro Music, lists of supporters, advertising, etc. The organization would appear to have a devoted following.
The auditorium is barn-like with superb acoustics. The audience sits on folding chairs. Ticket prices are reasonable. A good seat can be had for $30. The atmosphere is informal, yet charged with the expectation of hearing great music performed impeccably. And that is the result.
Why, you might ask, would musicians of such high caliber spend most of their summer engaged in intensive rehearsal and study when the chances of public performance are slim? The answer lies in the Marlboro tradition of community, collaboration and learning. The focus is on music, not personalities. I could not help but notice a wonderful photograph tucked away in an auditorium hallway of the youthful (barely out of their teens) James Levine and Van Cliburn seated at a Marlboro piano keyboard, score in view - had they any idea of the fame awaiting them?
The great music-making aside what struck me was the non-commercial aspect of Marlboro Music. Perhaps purity is too strong a word but it comes close. What better way to launch an idyll than experiencing an organization that strips away the extraneous to allow performer and listener alike to focus on why they have come together...and that is for music.
I am back home now and the world has crept back into my consciousness - from the horrors of Syria to the perils of the Detroit Institute of Art. My next blog post will doubtless be less idyllic, but for now why not savor the memory of hearing Mozart in the mountains of southern Vermont and of enjoying Maine sunsets? Thanks for your indulgence dear reader.
Being in beautiful places in Vermont, New Hampshire and then Maine helped. My wife and I were lucky to begin our idyll at Marlboro, Vermont where we visited friends and attended two concerts at the Marlboro Music Festival. This event, held on the lovely campus of Marlboro College, has just celebrated its 63rd season. It is devoted exclusively to chamber music and was founded by the great pianist Rudolph Serkin and friends. Its present artistic directors are the renowned pianists Richard Goode and Mitsuko Uchida.
Marlboro Music is unique. Over a five week period there are only two public performances a week. The community of about 80 musicians, a mixture of internationally known older artists and younger performers are formed into 60-80 groups, which have the luxury of unlimited rehearsal time. Typically only about 20% of works rehearsed are ever performed publically. Only those deemed to have reached especially excellent results will be programmed. As a result, the repertoire and personnel are announced to the public only a week or so in advance.
Furthermore, the program handed out to concertgoers is a photocopied single sided sheet, simply listing the pieces and names of performers. There are no musicians' biographies and quotations from music critics. There is however a handsome booklet available that gives more information about Marlboro Music, lists of supporters, advertising, etc. The organization would appear to have a devoted following.
The auditorium is barn-like with superb acoustics. The audience sits on folding chairs. Ticket prices are reasonable. A good seat can be had for $30. The atmosphere is informal, yet charged with the expectation of hearing great music performed impeccably. And that is the result.
Why, you might ask, would musicians of such high caliber spend most of their summer engaged in intensive rehearsal and study when the chances of public performance are slim? The answer lies in the Marlboro tradition of community, collaboration and learning. The focus is on music, not personalities. I could not help but notice a wonderful photograph tucked away in an auditorium hallway of the youthful (barely out of their teens) James Levine and Van Cliburn seated at a Marlboro piano keyboard, score in view - had they any idea of the fame awaiting them?
The great music-making aside what struck me was the non-commercial aspect of Marlboro Music. Perhaps purity is too strong a word but it comes close. What better way to launch an idyll than experiencing an organization that strips away the extraneous to allow performer and listener alike to focus on why they have come together...and that is for music.
I am back home now and the world has crept back into my consciousness - from the horrors of Syria to the perils of the Detroit Institute of Art. My next blog post will doubtless be less idyllic, but for now why not savor the memory of hearing Mozart in the mountains of southern Vermont and of enjoying Maine sunsets? Thanks for your indulgence dear reader.
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