I’m back from the Arts Presenters conference in New York with a head full of questions and a pocket full of business cards (two good indicators of a successful conference experience). I’ll be posting some of those questions and thoughts in the coming weeks, and reporting on the fantabulous work of my students on their session. But first, I need to get my oft-repeated rant off my chest:
Our professional conference models, methods, and metaphors are broken. They are successful to the extent that they attract a dense collection of practitioners into a confined space (which is why I have my questions and new contacts). But almost everything we do once we’ve collected that group seems misaligned with the opportunity of doing so.
We structure one-directional panels and workshops that promise time for questions but rarely deliver. We book keynote speakers to talk at us, as if there weren’t a dozen other technologies that could deliver that kind of monologue without consuming our precious collective time. And we even schedule brownbags, discussion sessions, breakfast roundtables, and other informal conversations without establishing productive rules of engagement (clarity of topic, preparation of participants, and so on).
I mean no disrespect to Arts Presenters, as this error is seemingly generic. As I’m helping craft a conference of my own this spring, I’m making the very same errors. It’s what’s expected in a conference. It’s what the buyers say they want, to the extent they can articulate. And none of us have the time, staff, and energy to entirely reconceive something so large.
So, during this conference, I decided to come up with ”little innovations,” that might help turn the tide, or at least encourage more focused and effective use of this invaluable collective time. I’m sure there are others (post comments to suggest them). But it’s a start.
- The ”No Exposition” and “No Bios” Rule
The large majority of every panel discussion seems to be exposition — here’s who I am, here’s what my organization is, here are all the details of the project or program I was asked to speak about. Any questions? Oops, there’s no time for questions. The juicy stuff — the tensions, the contexts, the discoveries, the back-and-forth with others in the room who have struggled with similar programs — is inevitably delayed or eclipsed. Bios and project descriptions can be posted on the web, included in the program, even provided as audio files to download before the event. Conference leaders should prohibit exposition and biography readings, and deliver a spitball to the back of the head of anyone who violates the rule. - The ”Hot Mike”
It’s not only panelists and moderators that have trouble with clarity and being concise, it’s everyone else, as well. Once we have the mike in our hands, we feel compelled to provide the very same exposition allowed of the panelists, even when it adds no relevance to the conversation. To provide a visceral feedback against this challenge, I suggest the design and production of the ”hot mike,” a microphone that slowly heats up to unbearable temperatures over the course of three minutes (or, perhaps you could set the ”unbearable temperature” clock to a duration most appropriate to the convening). Then, everyone who spoke would know that they would burn their hand if they spoke for more than three minutes (and they might prepare their comments accordingly). And those who got lost in their own exposition would have a not-so-subtle reminder that they’ve spoken long enough. - The Disconfirming Information Track
We’re all aware of ”confirmation bias,” or the unique and powerful ability of humans to seek out and select ideas and evidence that reinforce what we already believe to be true. The modern professional conference seems to be an extraordinarily efficient ”confirmation bias” machine. Panelists and keynotes tend to be people like us (arts professionals, from nonprofits) who agree, in general, with our collective assumptions (arts are good, professional nonprofit arts are better). It seems to me that conferences are an ideal time to throw a wrench in our collective beliefs — not because they are wrong, necessarily, but because they are weak and untested. How about a whole track of panels, keynotes, and workshops that convey evidence disproving what we believe to be true? Large fixed investment in cultural facilities might not be the best strategy toward cultural vitality. Audiences might not be aging. Young people might not be technology-crazed, socially detached culture haters. The nonprofit arts might not be the only path to meaning, discovery, and social capital. I know that we’re concerned that the world is watching, and we can’t discuss anything critical to provide our enemies ammunition. But I’d suggest that the nonprofit arts are less sustainable over the long run if our understanding is biased, our perspectives are blindered, and our arguments are unclarified by intensive scrutiny. Bring it! - The Moleskin Conference Program
There were several sessions at Arts Presenters on fostering ”green” arts organizations (a welcome innovation in conference content, I’d say). And we all went to these sessions with our registration tote bag jam-packed with glossy, non-recycled promotional materials, artist and agency fliers, compact discs, plastic promotional crap, and thick programs and listings. Granted, the conference tote bag is a revenue opportunity for the convener. But I wonder if we’ve really run the numbers on the net revenue of such endeavors, especially after we calculate all the staff time that went into securing those promotions. What if, instead, the essential elements of the conference schedule were bound into a single notebook, with space for participants to write their thoughts and key ideas. How about a version of the Moleskin City Notebook, including a city map, a calendar, and lots of empty note pages? Moving toward a more sustainable footprint would suggest limiting the use of paper and physical objects to their most necessary and focused use. Further, the goal of conference materials should be clarity, not clutter. - The Trained Facilitator
I saved the most radical innovation for last: How about requiring or even encouraging professional training for anyone who would like to moderate a panel, convene a roundtable, or facilitate an informal conversation? Perhaps provide a $50 registration discount for any member who takes a one-hour facilitator training course on the basics of group learning, conversation direction, and effective facilitation. Imagine what would happen if an increasingly large percentage of conference attendees were trained in effective conversation and group learning. Might that not only transform the conference, but also the field?
Sorry to blather. But this issue continues to vex me. I’m eager for any other innovations you’ve seen, or you’ve considered. Please post some.
Andrew, I wasn’t even at Arts Presenters, and I am laughing and feeling your pain.
One thing that drives me nuts is the “roving microphone syndrome” – where two “moderators” are wandering around, trying to hop-step over 50 people in a row to reach that person in the exact center of the row who has a question – and by the time the microphone reaches the questioner, he/she has already shouted their question so 30% of the room can hear it.
Simple solution: Station the microphones in a permanent location and make the questioners get up to ask their questions. We all need the exercise by that point.
Good luck with this, Andrew. (I’m not making a suggestion, just cheerleading.) We’re all rooting for you; and if you succeed, some of us may even consider going to conferences again.
Toastmasters organisation has excellent training for teaching protocol, nailing the point, committee rules and public impromptu or prepared speaking. It should be compulsory training before election to local government or attending a conference, so not to waste other people’s time.
My biggest ongoing complaint is that my professional colleagues are unprepared to share real information, and come without it. I’m a marketer, an have done symphony, theater and presenter conferences. Almost no one can tell me their renewal numbers, capacities sold, brochure response rates, telemarketing results or the actual net bottom line of this year’s fad technique. Most want to talk about their crazy bosses-boards-artistic directors (take your pick), look for jobs, or self promote themselves for their “invention” of some new technique that many have been using for years (most all, of course, without numbers, net revenues, etc.). I go rarely now, finding the time and expense cost far more than the returns, and because most of the information is now available far less expensively. One group, formerly called the ASOL, still insists on locating in the most expensive hotel in town. What I do get from these is a lot of business cards and face-to-face time with the people who actually do seem to know what they’re doing. Now THAT is valuable!
Kudos on this posting!
I simply can’t improve on your way of describing that
“Our professional conference models, methods, and metaphors are broken.”
This is indeed endemic to the entire “Conference Model” — across disciplines.
I have attended arts, history, and business seminars and conferences for years and always come home astonished at the sheer waste of talent, time, and opportunity they represent.
Perhaps because I am a performer,I see so easily how to improve this situtation, and am astonished by how I never seem to see the smallest indications that folks would do even the simplest things–like LOOKING at your audience when you are speaking!
I actually sit there stunned by the passivity of both presenters and audiences and inwardly I rail about how little opportunity there is to really honor this excellent idea:
“It seems to me that conferences are an ideal time to throw a wrench in our collective beliefs…”
I am also simply flabbergasted at the poor public-speaking skills and the vitiation of language represented at these events — small vocabularies seem to be the norm now
— not to mention the horrific proliferations of “ums” and (their linguistic progeny) and irritating catch-phrases or misusage (phrases like “going forward” or using “myself” instead of “me,” etc., etc.)–all of which distract and irritate and divert concentration from the content of a talk.
“The Trained Facilitator…
Imagine what would happen if an increasingly large percentage of conference attendees were trained in effective conversation and group learning. Might that not only transform the conference, but also the field?”
Hear, hear!
Every time I go to a conference it is the triumph of hope over experience…
Right on with the rant! I recently accompanied my spouse to a medical conference. We had to sort through a plastic bag of stuff that was left on our door EVERY DAY for a week. We counted the hike to the paper recycling bin as part of our fitness routine.
Can’t wait to read the rest of your suggestions. I’m forwarding these to my husband. Maybe he’ll forward them to HIS organization.
Came to your blog by way of Arts Journal.
Here, here Andrew. Conferences ought to be high-level discussions where field experts tackle tough issues and build platforms for better policy, advocacy, and practice. Those discussion ought to be framed and fueled by challenging ideas from outside the field. As you rightly suggest, savvy work on the part of both organizer and participant is required. I hope your readers will come be a part of that effort at the Americans for the Arts convention in Philadelphia June 20-22, 2008. The convention theme is American Evolution. Let’s evolve the conference model as well.
I was especially pleased to read Andrew’s first three points which I think provide support for a theory of professional conferences I’ve been developing. My premise is that the major problem with professional conferences is that they are designed to fail because
1) they combine people of all levels into the same sessions, and
2) they do not take into account the three levels of professional development that everyone must go through (in order…similar to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs). I call these three levels “The Three B’s of Professional Development.”
The first level is “bitch.” There are people who go to professional conferences because they are extremely frustrated in their work. They need to get their problems off their chests. It is impossible for these people to hear any substantive suggestions or new ideas until their frustrations are validated. They have to let everyone know that they do not have enough time or money to do their jobs or that their bosses or boards are incompetent, etc.
The second level is “brag.” People in this group have to let everyone know that their programs are fabulous. They can’t tell you why they are, but they know they are because they have this great feeling about them.
The final level is “brain.” People at this level are truly interested in developing new knowledge and trying to answer the question, “Why?”
Since it seems to be almost impossible to get people to self-select honestly (or should I say accurately?) into these groups (or the nature of the conference makes it impractical), whenever I facilitate a workshop, I start out by setting forth this theory and then say, “O.K. for the next ‘x’ number of minutes, let’s bitch” (and there are a variety of ways to do this anonymously). Then we brag for a while. Then we set out to do some real work.
Sometimes this method works, but it’s a bit time consuming, and, of course, it frustrates the people who are ready to brain from the beginning. I think, however, to ignore the fact that there are people in the room who cannot jump right into “braining” sets the stage for disruptions and contentions throughout a session.
Andrew:
You’re right on the money with these comments. In many conferences, we take people’s time, but don’t give them much in return. Your idea of facilitator training is very important.
If you’d like any help in designing the conference you’re planning, let me know, as I’d be pleased to lend a hand.
hello, just wanted to add how much i enjoyed this post. and agree with the sentiments. excellent.
Andrew, great to start the conversation. The key seems to be to avoid the model of “sage on the stage.” Rather than fall into this kind of too-often banal academic structure, why not look to the models of interaction in business and the arts? Good business understands what the customer needs. Good art creates a genuine connection between the creator and the audience.
In the meantime, check-out the APAP podcasts – http://kadmusarts.com/blog/?cat=9 (or linked via the APAP site) – where you can hear artists, presenters, and management speak directly about their work and their dreams. Many more will be posted in the coming weeks. This is one way APAP is reaching directly to its membership and beyond. Don’t you think?
I must heartily agree with Andrew’s recommendation that conferences should challenge our assumptions and entrenched ways of thinking. I attended a panel on “interactivity” at a museum conference late last year. All the presenters and most everyone in the room waxed poetic about giving museum visitors space to “connect”, “interact”, talk to each other and generally be verbal. Finally a museum studies student asked, “Why do we want people to talk about what they see? Why is it good for people to interact in museums?” And no one could really answer her. What use are the revered conference panels if we don’t even know why we are doing what we’re doing?
I have a colleague who just attended this conference and I have not heard what he thinks of it yet. He has attended two years in a row now. Where he is from and given very particular challenges in the arts there, I think this has greater potential for him than others. My colleague spent countless hours in airports trying to get there in order to secure his position as an arts presenter just like everyone else.
Fine for him…he needs it and where he is coming from, the resources and connections he was able to glean there are necessary, important and useful.
But what about most of us? We (I say ‘we’ because I am guilty of it too) spend loads of time and money to make sure that people outside our organization know what we are doing. (And I am not talking about marketing, entrepreneurship or advocacy) My colleague needs to network but who decided that they HAD to go to this conference because their organization needed it or just wanted to show off a bit?
Funnily enough, my colleague’s participation in this conference was challenged last year by a very influential, top arts administrator who my colleague admires greatly. This person suggested that aside from the lack of strategic planning and rules of engagement that have been discussed here so far, is an inherent knowledge that is ignored by attendees-these conferences are a big waste of finances and time when all it takes is simply calling the individuals that you want to share information with and building really personal and valuable relationships with those that can help you most.
But for most of us…are we just trying to outshine each other? All of us know full well before going who we really want to meet and who is going to be most valuable for our work, initiatives, programs etc. But quite unlike where my colleague is from, those commenting on the lack of organization at the conference and declaring that it is just a kind ‘Look at me’ event, work in cultural and arts institutions where everyone hides behind the company intranet and communicates with the people they work with every day without ever looking at them.
I say hold on to the money and hold a conference in your own work place. Get to know those people first…you never know what you are missing out on by not networking with your own employees.
The points made are valid, don’t misunderstand me…my own lack of funds, time and knowing that I feel the same way as most of you is why I didn’t go. If you don’t want to network with your own, next time find a conference somewhere that everyone doesn’t know your name and see what kind of headway you can make there. I did attend one in Prague recently and am a much better person for it; I knew one person, was relieved when the rest spoke English, met some really interesting, dedicated people that I hope to work with in the future and no one strayed from the topic or was there to shine brighter than anyone else there.
SAA,
Just so I’m clear, I LOVE the opportunity of the Arts Presenters conference to meet thousands of extraordinary artists, arts professionals, old friends, and new ones. There is honestly nothing like it anywhere. It’s extraordinary and worth every nickel (at least to me).
But I wonder at what such convenings could become if we challenged the traditional model of how they’re structured, and how they connect those who made the journey.
THANK YOU, Andrew! I totally agree with your observations/suggestions. In July of 07, I attended The Association of American Cultures Conference Open Dialogue XI and was pleasantly surprised to find that most of the sessions, especially the larger ones, were very informative and did not all fall under the “sage on stage” model.
Rather, they featured young artists/activists/managers. They provided an opportunity for these future leaders to lead/facilitate conversations with all of us. I must say, these young leaders were well prepared to facilitate.
The smaller sessions didn’t always live up to my expectations, precisely because the participants were not all prepared and some of the facilitators weren’t either. However, the point of the conference was to have an open dialogue and the topics for discussion were chosen at the beginning of the conference by the attendees.
I am most interested in seeing more facilitators receive training in that area and would LOVE to do so myself in order to lead future sessions.
What, where, and when is the conference you’re developing? I’d love to attend that, as well.
Andrew-Your stuff sounds great and definitely something that would benefit loads of people, myself included. I don’t think that the conference is without merit. I realize that my remarks really seem like I am totally panning it and that was not my intention. All the ideas people have for challenging the structure are spot on and can definitely make a huge impact-what I missed saying is these conferences present me with a unique opportunity to look at capacity building within my work through networking and listening to others ideas and initiatives in other people’s organizations. Then I would take those things, return to the fold and engage with the people I work with, which is what I do when I attend smaller conferences. Hopefully the ideas presented here will make an impact because they have a lot of potential for making the conference even more beneficial; has anyone proposed these to the Arts Presenters staff yet?
Thank you for all of this insight. Just came off a wonderful retreat for emerging leaders in the UK and although the benefits of communal exchange were very tangible there were a couple of moments of pure frustration (and boredom) when conversation turned into the anecdotal diatribe that added nothing to the topic. The ‘trained facilitator’ is a brilliant idea and was the first recommendation I made to the organisers for next time.
Looks like we might need a “hot keyboard” rule…
The disconfirming information track: what does work about these conferences?
Dan Gilbert mentions near the end of “Stumbling on Happiness” that beliefs capable of propagating the system of their distribution will remain prevalent though inaccurate.
People could also do with a bit of training and study about group dynamics and personal relationships and feng shui (yeah, really.. how to lay out a room to encourage comfortable communication, instead of a standard teacher/ student, actor/ audience layout) .. If we are really going to remake the style of a conference, why not remake it all?
This stream of notions, ponderings and Essential Enquiries is JUST the thing to inspire, motivate and support me in an upcoming endeavor that is a Very Ripe opportunity to try out a variety of these strategies. Huzzah for you, Andrew, for listening to your muse ~ and Thanks, All Y’all !
Great Post. I am curious what you think about the un-conference model from the podcamp movement?
As a very highly trained facilitator and a relatively young man (38), I am continually frustrated in the arts field how these old fogies want to run the meeting in the way that didn’t work the last seventeen times they did it.
…and lets complain about how little fun it was to run the meeting that way – and how we hate it.
…and how dare you suggest we change the way things are done around here till you have earned your way in. I would like to tell you that this is just in the arts field, but sadly it seems to be a result of the American Education system so you see this pattern through out the American landscape.