Two years ago when I still lived in New York, I purchased a ticket to see a production at the Metropolitan Opera. Ever since then, I have received a steady stream of promotional emails, and though I’ve never purchased anything else, I have enjoyed looking at the pictures. Then a couple weeks ago, they sent this to me in Baltimore:
The package struck me for a number of reasons. It was exceptionally heavy, had traveled far (considering what it was selling), and emitted that intoxicating fresh ink smell. Inside was a five-piece subscription solicitation that included personalized mailing labels plus a 50(!)-page four-color brochure jam-packed with more tempting pictures than the JCPenny’s Christmas catalog. The real kicker, however, was the eight-page, double-sided, tri-folded (and perforated!) “Order Forms” section. If I had been perusing the catalog with “Maybe we should go to the opera in New York this year!” fluttering around in the back of my mind, I was now paralyzed by the complexity of buying tickets. Forget Tosca; I suddenly did not feel mentally equipped to handle filling out the seat request form. There were New Year’s Eve tickets and Opening Night tickets and Season Tickets and Single Tickets and something that cost $50,000, but I was too scared to look.
Now, I bet opera fans were drooling all over this same package, so I don’t mean to knock the concept. And it must have cost a small fortune to produce and mail, so I hope they all immediately put in extensive season orders. But it was way more than I, a one-time single ticket buyer, knew what to do with. I’m more a teaser video and “Buy nosebleed seats for this Friday’s show NOW for only $25!” kind of girl, myself.
And at root, that’s probably the real problem. My image of myself does not include season subscriptions to anything, though (peeking cautiously back in on the order forms) I guess I could afford to incorporate one. This package was a great sales piece, I just wasn’t the right customer.
I agree with you completely. I got this from the Met and a similar one for Miller Theater. I understand the desire (from a practical seating perspective) for the series concept but with computers picking out seats online couldn’t you just pick and choose what you want and have them send you the tickets? What are all those convenience fees for? I’m sure our beautiful brochures were not the only ones to go straight to the trash.
Yeah, I also received the Met mailing but I thought you’d appreciate this…
When my girlfriend and I were out in Seattle visiting some family back in February we also went to check out the Seattle Opera double-bill production of Erwartung and Blue Beards Castle (awesome by the way). Anyway, a couple days ago I got a letter from them saying, “Your passion and loyalty have helped make the Seattle Opera [a] pre-eminent company in North America.” And, “You have provided the support and patronage that has helped bring Seattle Opera to this level of leadership and excellence in arts education.”
Of course this was just a letter, but still. I bought tickets for one show and I don’t even live in Seattle!