Phunny Philly Phrenetics?

...and this is how Philly celebrates its first world championship in 20 years?

But it was [Richard Goode's] incredibly clean and fast fluidity that moved the interpretation well beyond respectable into the rarer realms ruled by pure adrenaline.

Cough, cough. I think you mean dopamine, Pete, not adrenaline. A world run by pure adrenaline (AKA epinephrine) would be very unpleasant, because, you see, it is a hormone released from the adrenal glands when a person faces danger or an emergency. It makes you “hyper-aware” and ready to fight or flee. (On the other hand, seeing a bunch of frenetic septuagenarians ready to fight would be humorous, I think.)

More to the point, dopamine is a neurohormone secreted by the hypothalymus and is associated with rewarding pleasurable activities. It gets you high. I think that’s closer to what you mean, Pete.











Pie chart 1: "Where's our encore!"
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We Know You. You Love Music. You also Love to Buy Shit

You’ll probably never see my comments on a newspaper’s website, attached to an article. Primarily, it’s because I like cussing. But also, if you can make your way here, we can discuss the topic ad nauseam. Ah, the virtues of blogging! So I’d like to take this opportunity to comment on, rather than destroy, an article by Philadelphia Inquirer’s Peter Dorbin.

I stumbled on this a few days ago:

Orchestra marketing membership flexibility

In it, Peter outlines a new marketing plan offered by the Philadelphia Orchestra to increase ticket sales. Go figure. Here’s the problem:

In the 1987-88 season, 83 percent of the Philadelphia Orchestra's listeners were subscribers.

Last season the number dropped to 62 percent.

Single-ticket sales have increased at the same time, somewhat. But the reason this trend spells trouble is that having buyers who commit to six, nine or 12 concerts at a time is extremely cost-efficient.

To sell $300 in seats to a single-ticket buyer, the orchestra spends about $75 in marketing, advertising, postage, printing and other expenses.

Netting a new subscriber who spends $300 for tickets costs the orchestra $90.

But getting a current subscriber to renew shows why the orchestra clings to the subscriber model. Renewals are really cheap, costing the orchestra about $18 to $27.

Fuck. The question is, then, what do they do about it?

The new program is called eZseat. Once you're a member, you can buy a ticket at a 25 percent discount at almost any time - from an hour before a concert to nine months before curtain.

Okay. So its like all those little candies and razors strategically placed at the checkout register of your grocery store: you know, impulse buys. Only, you have to pay a little in advance for the opportunity to buy them at a discount.

Different membership levels carry different benefits. A $50 annual membership allows access to orchestra-level seats in Verizon Hall; $75 for both first-tier box and orchestra-level seats.

Now it’s time for an arithmetic lesson! Yeah!

Okay, it’s nearly impossible to find the prices for single tickets on the Philadelphia Orchestra’s website, so, after some rummaging around, I found their subscription brochure (PDF). There I was told that 1) They Know I Love Music and 2) for premium seats—1st tier and orchestra level tickets—a subscription would save me $77.75 per ticket. Then I picked out a nice subscription package, the six-concert Masterworks series, which would cost $466.50. Add $77.75 per concert and that's the price of all six concerts if I wanted to buy them individually: $933! Yuck. Divide by six and viola! Single concert tickets without a subscription discount would cost me $155.50 each. So, by buying the subscription I’d save 50% = $77.75 per subscription ticket after a $77.75 discount!

Back over at eZseat, I’d spend $75 for the opportunity to buy premium seats at any time at a discount of 25% off the price of individual ticket prices. So, if individual ticket prices are $155.50, I’d save $38.88 (roughly) per ticket. Thus, each ticket under the eZseat discount would cost me $116.62.

Hmmm.

This means that I’d have to buy tickets to two concerts (roughly) to pay for my eZseat subscription: $38.88 x 2 = $77.76.

=> 2 x $116.62 (the discounted eZseat ticket price) + $75 (eZseat subscription price) = $308.24 for two concerts, which is nearly equal to two tickets ($155.50 x 2 = $311) at full, non-subscription price. So, my savings by purchasing eZseat privileges take effect only after I attend two concerts at regular price.

Thus, if I were to purchase tickets to the additional four concerts at the eZseat price, I’d save 25% off those tickets. This comes to $116.62 x 4, which equals $466. 50, the same price as I would have payed for a regular subscription package. Only, instead of six concerts at at half-off, I’m getting two, plus four regular priced tickets; or if you prefer, that's one free ticket for the price of five regular priced tickets!

That means an eZseat "subscription" plus six concerts costs me $308.24 + $466.50 = roughly $755, or an extra $308 over the price of a regular subscription and only $178 cheaper than if I bought the tickets individually.

Not such a hot deal is it?

The eZseat program was crafted in large part by orchestra marketing chief J. Edward Cambron as a response to increasing resistance to the old subscription model.

"We were looking for how to find a new way to get people to go regularly, as if they were subscribers, but not have the problems subscriptions have, because subscriptions are not the future," Cambron said.

This is batshit crazy people. Subscriptions are the better deal. The only cool thing about eZseat is that there is flexibility—you get to chose which concerts you go to.

But between you and me, every concert is the same. And a Tchaik-Tchaik here and a Rach-Rach there. Here a Tchaik. There a Rach. Everywhere an oink-oink. Old MacDonald had a farm...

It seems strange, perhaps, that in a town known for its sports-loserdom, that more people wouldn’t want to go to the symphony, where it’s a win-win every time.

"They want to go when they want to go, and you risk people not going because they either don't feel like they belong or can't get the kind of access to concerts they want. This program gives them a guarantee in a way."



















"Surprise, Honey!"

"Wow, thanks. I always wanted diarrhea." (cover by: Ninja Freaks)

But having it your way comes at a higher price. Buyer beware!

Perhaps, the old-school subscription-phobia is not the problem. Commenter Constant Reader adds her/his two cents:

I think that the orchestra is obliquely noting the major problem: the concerts are now just over-supplied commodies [sic]. When the supply of a commodity--whether SUVs, last-season's clothes, or unsold bread--outstrips supply, the easy solution is to cut price to a point where purchase becomes desirable. A more difficult solution would be to remove the stigma of commodity. That comes from either dramatic improvement in the product's perceived value: from scarcity, exceptional quality or both. Put simply, the Philadelphia Orchestra performs far more often than demand in 2008 dictates. The supply far outstrips demand. The concerts are rarely special events, and the customer realizes this. The real response should be to consider reducing the number of concerts, and perhaps the length of orchestra's season. As for the canard about a 52-week season being essential to quality, consider that in the glory days of Stokowski the orchestra performed for a half-year or less.

Mmmmm. Saturated fats. You can have it your way, right away!
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Wait, is this something I've heard before?

Wait, is that a melody?

No, I’m mistaken.

No, just a fleeting fragment.

Hey, I heard that before, right?

Didn’t we hear that figure before?

Yes.

Maybe.

Well, not that exact phraseology.

But not in that exact form.

I remember now. Didn’t everyone who ever reviewed Elliott Carter say as much? That’s consistent, at least.

The sound world of Elliott Carter is not the most obvious one to navigate, but his aesthetic at least is consistent.

If you’re going for consistency, where’s the dissonance? The anger? The intellectual rigor? The violence? The punchiness? The lack of tonality? The necessity of repeated listening? The legendary inscrutability? The 100 years? The worn-out clichés and lazy interpretation?

It’s right here.

All provided for you by Peter Dorbin of the Philadelphia Inquirer.

Addendum: Here's a really, really cool link to a video interview with the 99-year old Elliott Carter in celebration of his centenary. What a sweety.