I open this post with an excerpt from the graduation celebration
of the 2003 Open
Doors Program of Theatre Development Fund. In this clip TDF Executive
Director Victoria Bailey introduces the late Wendy Wasserstein. As a founder of
this program Wasserstein's vision has made the theatergoing experience a reality for what
will soon be generations of New York City high school students. I had the
privilege of hearing Wasserstein speak about this program at the 2003 Crossing
Paths conference held in Charlotte, NC. Her enthusiasm inspired me to develop a
similar program for at-risk youth in New Hampshire. The idea behind these programs
is to provide area youth with access to, and ownership of, arts events.
I come back to this years later in the midst of the excitement
that surrounds “Hamilton” the musical. It’s a problematic piece this “Hamilton”.
Why?
It is so much money.
In the run-up to the 2016 Tony Awards™ for Broadway, much was
made about the premium price increases of “Hamilton” tickets and the profits
that many “Hamilton” stakeholders stand to make with the show’s current
popularity. Prior to the recent price increase, Melinda
Lopez offered a narrative of the seesaw she rode on whether or not to
purchase tickets for her and her daughter’s girls’ weekend later in the summer.
The funds to afford the nearly $2,000 to purchase the tickets were available
from a small inheritance borne out of a dying mother’s allotment for home care
that was no longer needed. In the end, Lopez presses “enter” on the buy option
of the ticket website.
Lopez’s Howlround blog
post elicited mostly supportive comments especially in regards to the
connection between a dying mother and her daughter and granddaughter’s
living-life-to-its-fullest choice of attending “Hamilton.” But the comments
also included a plea to refrain from succumbing to such high prices as it only
encourages prices to climb even higher, pushing experiences like attending
“Hamilton” out of the realm for most.
I have been tossing around the idea of a connection, if any,
between art and commerce with ethics. Does the bonding of art with commerce, in
this case commercial theatre, render the enterprise less responsible to ethical
considerations of access, as demonstrated by ticket prices? One can surmise
that as ticket prices increase less access is made available to the particular
arts experience. While the recent price increase for “Hamilton” tickets was,
according to its producers, offset by an
increased number of tickets made available for $10, there are barriers to
access of this opportunity. Many working people are unable to invest the time
to engage in the $10-lottery and a foundation-supported
program for high school students is restricted to a particular catchment
area.
We might think of these $10-tickets as a latter-day
equivalent to the reduced admission afforded the groundlings in Elizabethan
England. Andrew
Gurr (1996) notes that the groundling price at theatres at this time was a
penny versus a fee of sixpence for the lusher accommodations of a lord’s room.
However, Gurr estimates that more than 800 groundlings were likely admitted into
a theatre space with a total capacity for 3,000 viewers. This would amount to
27 percent of the Elizabethan audience as comprised of the penny-stinker
class. In contrast, it is doubtful that the “Hamilton” producers of 2016 are
offering 27 percent of their seats to lottery winners and foundation-supported
patrons.
What’s more, the differential between the groundling and
lord’s admission prices is much smaller than that between a New York City high
school student and a premium viewer: the groundling would pay six times more in
admission to afford the lord’s room while today’s student needs to pay 85 times
more to secure a premium seat.
An underlying premise within my question suggests that art
that is not linked to commerce is inherently accountable to an ethical agenda. I
am reminded of Joan Jeffri’s (1983) discussion
of the mid-1970s controversy that surrounded the Museum of Modern Art’s sale of
air rights to a commercial developer. Critics of the project distinguished the
non-profit museum’s status as a “repository of values” against the real estate
developer’s “siren call of commercialism.” This was, according to Lee Rosenbaum,
a clash of values and ethics.
However, is it appropriate to assume that arts organizations
that are not-for-profit are inherently ethical? Diane Ragsdale’s “In
the Intersection: Partnerships in the New Play Sector” (2012) discusses the
relationship between the for- and not-for-profit theatre sectors. The book
recounts a convening in 2012 of 26 theatre professionals to discuss the intersection
that occurs in the development of co-productions between these two sectors.
Throughout the book, the professionals refer to a need for clear and
transparent ethical codes by which decision-making can be accomplished by the
non-profits regarding productions, research, and development: none of the discussion places the burden
of ethics on the for-profit arm. This group would likely have us assume that
the for-profit arm of theatre is not obligated to consider ethics in their
business decisions. As Polly
Carl of Emerson College stated, “Wall Street is Wall Street because they
don’t have an ethics statement.”
I come away from this processing of art, commerce and ethics
as somewhat disillusioned. While I don’t consider myself to be naïve—I did
spend my young adulthood dealing with the ravages of ticket scalpers on
Broadway--I entered the field of the arts with a love for many if not all of
its forms and a growing respect for the values that the forms can impart on its
public. Fighting fire with fire in the case of third-party ticket prices might be
effective for the bottom line but I don’t view it as contributing to the art
form.
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