Read the menu. It’s for a restaurant called El Bistró Argentino (The Argentinian Bistro).
Do you believe that French food is their specialty?
Do they believe it?
Peanut butter and banana toast? And with Wonder® Bread, no less?
And did you notice the prices?
Let me ask you: if you wanted a French, Italian, or Chinese dinner, or a greasy spoon breakfast, might you instead choose actual French, Italian, Chinese, or American chain diner-style restaurants? Hold that thought for a moment.
If you see yourself and your organization as an entity that resides in a small room surrounded by mirrors, then it would make sense that you program for yourself. You are the only audience that you see, which makes you the only audience member about whose life you care.
Alternately, if you see yourself as a curator whose job is to present the most “excellent” visual or performance artwork, then it would make sense that you program for the audience members around you, even if you’re in a commercial venue in London, Sydney, New York, Toronto, or Keokuk, Iowa. The only audience members that you see reacts to the art that particular day or night, which makes them the only audience members about whose life you care.
It’s funny, though. Neither of these are your audience. As a nonprofit arts organization, your audience doesn’t even have to step through your door or watch your art. In fact, your audience might never consume the art you do. And yet, it is your audience.
Your community is your audience.
Stop rolling your eyes. Your community is your audience.
Not just those who attend. And certainly not the transactional folks you currently call “ticket-buyers.” That’s a quid pro quo transactional relationship, after all. They buy ticket; they see art; done done done. Even if they are season ticket holders or members, they’re still buying a product, consuming it, and in doing so, finish the transaction.
However, if you believe that you have to placate, appease, satisfy, and pacify certain people, people who purchase either a product or donation, it might become impossible to serve your real audience, your community.
Do you remember them? They’re the people who asked you to serve their needs, gaps, and issues that adversely affect them. They asked you to start your charity for a reason, and the reason probably wasn’t the idea of servicing the artistic whims of billionaires, artistes, or other elites.
Or you, for that matter.
There is really only one question that a leader of a nonprofit arts organization, whether that’s a board member, an executive director, an artistic head, or any other leader within a company needs to ask at the end of every day:
Anything less is abdication of duty.
Rather than looking at this question and taking a defensive stab at an unprovable answer, or worse, paying no attention at all, you could decide to provide a menu of services that, when successful, guarantees to make your community a better place to live.
If you’re in the hall of mirrors and believe that your organization has to produce, for lack of a better example, a musical, a drama, a new play, a classic, a comedy, and a Christmas play each year, you’re failing. It’s as ridiculous as an Argentinian restaurant that serves French, Chinese, and Italian food. Oh, and peanut butter and banana toast.
Be the expert at what you do. Not an expert. The expert.
To wit: if you want French food, you go to a French restaurant. It’s the likeliest place to get good French food, because they purport to be the expert at what they do. And if you like it, you’ll go there every time you want French food.
Your nonprofit arts organization is like a French restaurant. The theater company around the corner is like an Italian restaurant. And the museum a mile away is the Chinese restaurant. When people want the expert experience that each offers, they’ll support that work.
They’ll never go to El Bistró Argentino. Don’t be El Bistró Argentino.
Who is in your community (and not just the elites)? What are the demographics within 20 minutes of your front door? Or, better, how would your community react if you brought art to the neediest among you and find a way to get them help along the way?
Have a discussion about your community’s needs before you begin to program, not after. Don’t presume that your production of Porgy and Bess is a work that celebrates the Black experience in your community. It might not be. Especially if you follow it up with The Odd Couple, Hamlet, and the world premiere of an avant-garde performance art piece by an artist you like. And if you’ve already programmed that season, you’re way too late.
Your nonprofit arts organization is like a French restaurant. The theater company around the corner is like an Italian restaurant. And the museum a mile away is the Chinese restaurant. When people want the expert experience that each offers, they’ll support that work.
If you’re in the lap of the elites and believe that your organization has to produce “safe,” “clean,” “apolitical” art or else you’ll lose donor revenue, you’d be dead wrong. Instead, after getting the answers from the other nonprofits in your community about what its biggest needs are, ask your donors (before you program at all) which issue might induce them to contribute to a solution. Engage with them instead of just begging for bucks. Then find the nonprofit in your community that’s working on that particular issue and work out a partnership that lasts longer than the art does.
For the sake of all that is holy, do not try to be all things to all people. It’s not just a question of branding (although it kinda is) and niche marketing (all arts organizations, no matter the size, serve a niche of the public, not the whole thing). It’s a question of doing the right thing—doing what it says in that big orange hexagon above.
Based in Kirkland, Washington, Alan Harrison is a writer and speaker specializing in nonprofit organizations, strategy, the arts, and life politics. His columns appear regularly in major publications. Contact him directly at alan@501c3.guru.
If you’re feeling generous or inspired, just click on the coffee cup above. You don’t have to, of course, but if you can afford it and find some value here, please provide the desperate need for caffeine.
Alan is always looking for good opportunities to write and consult for nonprofits that need a hand. And, of course, that elusive Perfect Opportunity™.
BIG NEWS: Alan’s new book, “Scene Change: Why Nonprofit Arts Organization Must Stop Producing Art and Start Producing Impact” will be published within the next eleven months by Changemakers Books. Stay tuned for information on how you can buy a copy.
Molly Larson Cook says
Alan, this is a great article and I will put it to use in the small rural community where I live and am involved in the arts. Your thoughts are so on-target! Thank you for so clearly verbalizing what’s been on my mind since becoming involved here and feeling that there are a lot of pieces but no solid framework. Now I have a better way to understand it.
I’m both a visual artist (painter) and a writer. My last art workshop was at the Kirkland Art Center with Dana Sullivan.
All best,
Molly in Oregon
Alan Harrison says
Thank you, Molly. I hope you’ll stay in touch and, when it’s published in a few months, pick up a copy of my new book, “Scene Change: Why Nonprofit Arts Organizations Must Stop Producing Art and Start Producing Impact,” published by Changemakers Books. I’ll put your name and email on the list for more information and new articles about the arts.
All the best to you, too.
Alan, about a half a mile from the Kirkland Arts Center.
Rubina William says
Thank you for writing this post. It will be very useful to me in my small rural community. I look forward to putting your thoughts into practice and hope to see some great results!