“I’m always looking five years, ten years down the road,” says Jung-Ho Pak, music director of the Cape Symphony Orchestra. “I can see a future of obsolescence. There are questions about viability.”
What the future brings—in every aspect of life—remains unclear. For classical music organizations, with venues shuttered and the end to social-distancing months away, nothing can be assumed.
“Look at the restaurant industry,” Pak says. “You can bet that many will disappear in a month, or three months. Who thinks the performing arts aren’t like that? Fundamentally, there is a need for corrections, and after the smoke clears our industry will be devastated.”
“This is still early,” says David Prentiss, CEO and president of the New Bedford Symphony Orchestra. “But even at this point, I know it will change us. It will change us, but it won’t end us.”
Mark Volpe, president and CEO of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, says simply, “this is a reset in every respect.”
Just planning a season of live performances can be its own quagmire—arranging programs, artists, and calendars. Those problems have quickly receded to the background; planning now becomes its own creative enterprise, and doesn’t have anything to do with performances. It’s about survival.
“We all work on a vision of what a concert season should be,” says Tony Beadle, president and CEO of Rockport Music. “Now the vision is, ‘What is the plan for getting back up?’ You’ve got to be working on that plan, and it changes every day.”
As Beadle insists, ideas about the future have to be flexible. The very notion of organizations that gather artists in one place, then invite the public to enjoy their work, has been called into question.
“Should symphonies exist?” Pak asks. “Our business model, the number of people, the vulnerability of gathering in groups—this is our crucible moment.”
“It might come to a period of scaling down,” Volpe says, “we’ll have to be flexible. Will we be limited to the number in a gathering—what if it’s 75, or 200, or 1000? That’s going to be a conversation.”
Volpe, Pak, Beadle and Prentiss are all experienced leaders, and their organizations have grown impressively during their tenures. Volpe, who previously announced his retirement for next year, will have led the BSO for 23 years by then. With an endowment of nearly half-a-billion dollars, and a triple revenue stream—Tanglewood, the Boston Pops and the BSO—the organization is an international leader, as it has been for much of its history.
Pak has led the Cape Symphony Orchestra since 2007, and prior to that led the San Diego Symphony out of bankruptcy. Beadle has been crucial in growing Rockport Music from a summer chamber music festival into a year-round, multi-genre presenter. Prentiss has led the NBSO since 2008 to unprecedented growth, adding additional performances and venues, and expanding its extensive education programs on the South Coast.
All four are sounding alarms not only to their own organizations, but to presenters everywhere. But they all also tend toward optimism, and a tempered kind of hope.
“In some way we are like a virus,” Pak says, acknowledging the unsettling irony. “It mutates to survive, and we can do the same. This is an opportunity to strengthen and adapt. We will become much leaner.
“You have to define yourself,” Pak says. “For us, our core has been bringing in people who don’t just like classical music. We’ve postponed our April concert, but right now we are planning on doing our May program. If not, we’ll do our June concert. If that gets cancelled, we’ll give the next one.”
At the BSO, the shutdown feels personal. “That’s our core competency—bringing people together to experience music,” Volpe says. “We’re not immune to this. And half our income comes from concerts.”
“We cancelled our March program,” Prentiss says, echoing the theme, “and we’re rescheduling our April events. But we haven’t made a decision on Seaside Swing (June fundraiser). We have a time-line to make a decision though.” As of now the BSO has cancelled programs through May 2; Rockport Music through the end of April.
They all insist that while doors to the concert halls may be closed, conversation remains open—and essential.
“Maintain an effective communication plan with your constituents,” Beadle insists. “Even though we’re shuttered, we want our people to know to check in. Let them know we are anxious to get back. We’re constantly looking at the situation.
“Talk to your stakeholders,” he says, “keep them posted. Give them opportunities to help you. Be sensitive, be respectful. Don’t send out appeal letters now; have gentle conversations.”
“In this environment the relationships are really critical,” Volpe says. “The relationships, and the communication. But like I told our musicians, there is no playbook. We don’t know what the future will look like.”
All these organizations have built solid foundations—not something that most presenters can say. In the end, they send encouragement out to all organizations faced with financial insecurity.
“We have a generational singularity, with the wealth of our audience—the greatest generation, the boomer generation, whatever names you use,” Prentiss says. “We have had a strategy in place to take advantage of that, and build an endowment, so that if times are lean we will still be financially sustainable.
“But now that’s not an option for everyone,” he says. “This will force orchestras to be creative, to broaden the range of what an orchestra can do, and get unstuck from the paradigm. There’s lots of mutual support too—Jung-Ho and I have talked about this, and that happens a lot. Through a collective effort these issues can be solved.”
“I want to be the disruptive force,” Pak says. “Let the crisis be your carte blanche, your key to success.”
“I wouldn’t be doing what I do if I didn’t believe in the power of music,” Volpe says. “Right now, we all feel emotional and psychological pain. But part of my job is to make sure we come out of this with a vibrant institution.”