Leaders are needed

“It's too easy to blame the organization and the system and the bottom line for decisions that a person would never be willing to take responsibility for. Whenever you can, work with people who take it personally.” Seth Godin in his blog

Wangari Maathai (Photo taken from The Green Belt Movement website)

It was with great curiosity that I started reading the other day the article Good bosses are the same today as they were in 1992, because I often think about what makes a good leader (regardless of scale). The author, Robert Sutton, states that many things may be changing, may need to be reinvented, but not the definition of a great leader (or boss or manager or director). And I am quoting: “(…) we humans still yearn to follow others who are competent enough to bring in resources, teach us new skills, and generate attention and prestige from key outsiders (...) We also want fair leaders who protect us, and who make us feel cared for and respected, who inject humanity. (...) As over fifty years of research shows, treating employees with respect, encouraging them to participate and to make suggestions, and listening to them are as important as ever. The same is true about setting a clear direction, making decisions, and taking charge.”

In these words I find many of the issues I think about when reading the biographies of those I consider great leaders, when thinking of people who have been my bosses, when evaluating myself as a team leader or when analysing, more recently, the cases of organizations which have been through great trouble and the attitudes and options taken by the people who lead them. A leader has got qualities that allow him/her to trace a path and follow it, and at the same time to inspire, gather and lead many other people, who are essential for materializing his/her vision and accomplishing the mission. And I often think that, along this route – which may be difficult, complicated, disheartening, exhausting and even solitary – one of the things that distinguish a leader is that fact that he/she knows how to say "no", when it would be much easier and comfortable to say "yes".

And this brings me to the case of the Penumbra Theatre, which recently a friend brought to my attention. Open since 1975 in the town of St. Paul (Minnesota, USA), its mission is to promote respect and tolerance by creating dialogue around issues of race and racism. The theatre is known for taking risks, stretching boundaries and introducing new voices to american theatre. Nevertheless, the Penumbra Theatre went through a particularly difficult moment in the early 2000s. A state capital bond, which allowed them to invest in the construction of a new theatre, was after all vetoed, leaving them with a considerable debt. The consequences were those one would expect: demotivated and frustrated administrative staff, board members who didn´t believe in the theatre´s mission anymore, donors who started questioning the theatre´s capacity for financial management and the possibility of closure almost becoming a reality. A restructuring committee was created and, with the aim to start by restructuring donors´ trust, it hired an experienced and tenacious manager, Chris Widdess, who identified three key areas: recommitting to the mission; building long-term relationships both internally and externally; and creating a long-term plan. It´s worth reading here everything about this case-study, but what particularly drew my attention was Widdess´s statement that saying "no" was fundamental in the restructuring process. I do believe it was fundamental and that it actually happened because both Widdess and Lou Bellamy, the Penumbra Theatre´s founder and artistic director, have a clear idea regarding the theatre´s mission and the future they wish to trace for it. It was this mission, this vision, they aimed to share both with donors and the audience. And they did whatever was necessary to defend it, including saying "no". By 2007 the Penumbra Theatre was back on track.

I also thought about the ‘knowing-how-to-say-no’ issue when I saw a programme on portuguese state TV regarding cultural funding, with António Gomes de Pinho (former President of the Serralves Foundation board) and Pedro Gadanho (recently appointed curator at the MOMA). The programme had prepared a special report on the american funding model and the journalist responsible stated that every year the Metropolitan Opera presents the same popular works to keep its donors happy (had this statement been based on information coming from credible sources?). In the same programme, public funding for the arts was referred more than once as an essential guarantee for preserving one´s autonomy when programming. Pedro Gadanho was quick to explain that he doesn´t feel any kind of pressure on behalf of donors when carrying out his duties and that he acts with absolute autonomy. Nevertheless, I would say that this is not an issue mainly related to the dilemma “public or private funding?”. Both a politician and a donor might feel they have a right to dictate options in exchange for their support. And some do. But then, from that point onwards, everything depends on the the person on the other side: on his/her sense of mission and responsibility; on his/her determination to defend them and act accordingly; on his/her exemption; on his/her capacity to say "no". Everything depends on whether there is a leader on the other side or not.

Vision, sense of mission, perseverence, sense of responsibility; an attitude that inspires and motivates others, turning them into allies and companions; a life dedicated to a cause; making a difference. When what we see around us is mainly those ‘yes people’ - those who are more than willing to forget everything about mission and responsibility, who easily blame the system and the status quo, in order to justify their only wish, which is to keep their posts and preserve their small or big power -, I think again of a lady whose autobiography I read last August. Wangari Maathai was the founder of The Green Belt Movement in Kenya. She fought for the environment and she fought for democracy in her country. She knew how to say "no". And she also knew how to say "I´ll do the best I can". She died in Semptember 2011.

Still on this blog
Building trust

Crise oblige? (iii) Management challenges



Photo © ORF (taken from http://www.kleinezeitung.at/)

What a great management lesson was the open letter of the music director of Liceu of Barcelona, Michael Boder, in response to the announcement of the administration that, due to financial difficulties, the theatre would close for two periods of one month each, between March and July (read here). And it was not just a management lesson. Boder showed a great sense of mission and responsibility, essential qualities for anyone who heads an institution and decides its course.

“Why do we exist?”, the music director asked Liceu´s general manager, immediately providing him with some answers: we exist to play, play more and not less; because, in moments like these, music carries a very important message; because music can move our inner selves; because, in times of crisis, a cultural institution can and should send a social message; because we are at the service of social cohesion; because culture brings comfort and gives ideas (read the open letter here).

But Boder raised some more issues in his open letter, related to the need to reevaluate the theatre´s inflated administration, the collective agreement and chorus and orchestra working hours, which he consideres insufficient. He didn´t hesitate to put on the table the theatre´s fixed costs in order to guarantee the continuity of the programming. Because he knows, just like the administration should know, that without programming an institution disappears from the 'map', that is from the heads and hearts of its audience; it loses its credibility and the prestige it took uears to build; it is sentenced to internal decline and demotivation; and it seriously damages its image, when the message it sends to society, especially in times of crisis and considerable sacrifices, is that the priority are the salaries and benefits of the employees (even if they have been ‘sentenced’ to inertia), and not the cultural offer, which is the main reason why it exists (in the meantime, the administration of the Liceu has revoked its decision for closure – read here).

In the last two years, the financial situation of many orchestras around the world was news. One of the most famous cases was that of the Philadelphia Orchestra, an orchestra with a reputation at an international level, which filed for bankruptcy almost a year ago. Nevertheless, the case I would like to concentrate on here is that of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. Detroit is a city that gaine prosperity thanks to the automobile industry, which supported, among other things, a number of cultural institutions, including the orchestra. In the last years, a number of economic and social factors have dramatically changed the environment the orchestra is operating in: the decline of the automobile industry, the collapse of the stock market, the fact that the population decreased by almost 50% in a decade, but also aging audiences, a decrease in tickets sales, the debt still to be repayed for a recent auditorium extension. The administration went ahed with cuts, including a 23% cut in the salaries of the musicians (accepted after a strike that lasted for months and kept the orchestra silent for most part of the season). Nevertheless, cuts are not a guarantee for sustainability. Socio-demographic changes are a much greater challenge for this orchestra (and for cultural institutions in general) and its sustainability depends a lot on the way it will react and adapt to them. Operating now in an 80% afro-american city (there are only 4 black musicians in the orchestra), where the average income has drastically decreased, where there has been no musical education in schools for years, it is urgent to try and involve new, diversified audiences, representative of the population that now lives in Detroit and other neighbouring cities. One of the initiatives of the orchestra is playing in community centres, churches and synagogues, points of encounter with its new target audiences (read here).

The problems cultural institutions are facing nowadays in various parts of the world are not just financial. They are varied and they are connected. They relate to management, programming, education, communications. The world in which we are operating is different, constantly changing and developing.

With the aim to approach some issues related to management this time, I would quote once again Michael Kaiser, who says that, in the first place, we are facing a revenue problem (and not a problem of expenses, although that´s where we always start from). And the word ‘revenue’ specifically refers to: state and municipal investment; sponsorship money (corporate, foundations, individuals); revenue from rentals and other services; ticket sales (when applicable). In Portugal and other countries, after years of (almost absolute) dependence on the money the State was willing or able to invest, there is an urgent need to start looking for alternative revenue sources. And although the obvious option seem to be companies and foundations, we cannot fool ourselves. This is not a relationship that lasts for ever. These organizations invest their money because they want to see their name associated to a specific project; because this makes sense within their strategic plan. In the meantime, strategic plans change, they are orientated according to specific objectives and priorities, which don´t remain unaltered. Thus, the third revenue source becomes decisive for a sustainable future: the people, the individuals who relate to us and want to support us with donations, buying tickets and subscriptions or memberships. This relationship, yes, if valued and cherished, may last for ever. Even after death… One of the most touching stories I have heard recently is that of a man who left all his money to an orchestra - having set aside just the money for his funeral –, because he was homebound for years and one of his greatest (and few) pleasures in life was listening to the orchestra´s live transmissions on the radio (for legal reasons, due to the donor´s express wish, it is not possible to give specific information about this donation).

However, we do have cost problems as well. When we are forced to cut (due to a crisis, for instance), we are always capable of identifying those cases in which our financial resources are not managed in the most efficient way and we try to optimize them. This also involves managing human resources efficiently. In general, we are not prepared, or willing, to consider the waste of money not only on inflated teams, but mainly when the existing teams are not reaching their true potential. Michael Boder did not hesitate to admit that the number of working hours of the orchestra and the chorus were insufficient. In the case of many orchestras around the world (see links at the end of the post), musicians and other employees were involved in the process of ‘repositioning’, they did not consider their salaries and benefits to be ‘sacred’, they did not place them ahead of the need to continue playing, because they didn´t want to lose their place in the life of their audience. At the same time, I believe that employees are more willing to consider this kind of negotiations and to accept sacrifices when they feel that there is an honest and genuine wish, a determination on behalf of the administrations to find solutions that will allow organizations not only to survive for a little longer, but to create the conditions for a healthy and sustainable future for all.

In times like these, in cases like these, there is a greater need for cultural institutions to be managed by people who have adequate academic preparation and /or professional experience and training), professionals who will be able to drive the boat with competence, knowledge, discipline and with due sensibility towards the field´s especificities. Because it is possible to have financially healthy cultural institutions, they exist (read Michael Kaiser´s article here). Maybe once we manage to overcome the rhetoric regarding the “commodification of culture” (in which normally a cultural manager is the equivalent of a supermarket manager and his specialized work is seen as a terrible threat to access to culture for all), we might be more open to try and understand how and why others have made it.

We are used to saying that times are not easy. Have they ever been? Times now are ‘simply’ more difficult. To move out from our comfort zone, to overcome the sterile language of the manifestos which only complain but propose nothing, to look at the reality around us and confront it (in a responsible, realistic, knowledgeable and professional way) is a pemanent need. Perhaps more urgent at certain times. But permanent. As Russell Willis Taylor, CEO of National Arts Strategies, said in a speech that is worth listening to until the end, “There are no crises, only tough decisions”.

Still on this blog
La crise oblige? (I) Some questions
La crise oblige? (II) Programming challenges
Building a family: lesson from the social sector
On family: second week at the Kennedy Center
Changes: are we paying enough attention?


More readings
Philadelphia Orchestra players OK tentative contract with deep cuts
CSO posts a deficit for last year
Keeping the Lights On: Sacramento Opera Seeks to Remain Viable
Birmingham Symphony Orchestra pay cut

I think of Luis Soriano

Image taken from http://www.dailyglean.salebooks.com/

Last week my son told me that Jesus only allows ladies to have children when they are married and when they and their husbands love each other very much. Information given at school. It seemed a bit too early to present him with other versions regarding the second part, but I didn´t hesitate regarding the first. After all, his best friend is the daughter of a single mum. I then remembered that this single mum, when her daughter entered the kindergarten, was careful enough to explain the situation to the teacher and to clarify that her daughter had never met her father. What did the teacher do on Father´s Day? She asked the children to sit in a circle and talk about their dads. Probably, this is what she had done in previous years. She repeated the ‘activity’ without the least adaptation to her class´s new reality, to her class´s diversity. A few days ago, a friend told me also about a couple of lesbians who had great trouble in convincing the school to allow the mother´s partner, the mother´s wife, to pick up the children.

All this made me think of how slow the school is in reacting and adapting to new realities. A slowness which is sometimes difficult to understand, considering that homosexual couples are still a novelty, but single mothers (or single fathers) not really. The school´s reaction to the changes that take place around it, the adaptation, would mean a greater inclusion of people (in this case children and teenagers), a greater connection and relevance to their lives, greater tolerance and openness towards the richness diversity brings to everyone´s life.

And this is exactly what one would wish for cultural institutions too. Or rather – to avoid talking about ‘institutions’, a word that makes us think of something devoid of people, lacking a soul, for which no-one is responsible - for the people who think, manage and work in cultural institutions. Yes, I am referring to all of us, “cultural snobs” or “new mandarins” (to quote John Holden once again), who continue doing everything the way we´ve always done it, alien to the changes, incapable or not willing to identify, understand and integrate them. Which quite often condemns us to irrelevance.

An article recently published in The Telegraph presented the results of a survey Visit Birmingham carried out with 2000 children aged between 5 and 12, which indicated that: 4 in 10 children have never seen the inside of an art gallery; 17 % haven't visited a museum with their parents; 25% haven't been to the theatre; 6 in 10 have never heard or been to a classical music concert; 1 in 10 kids hasn't left their hometown to visit other cultural sites in the UK. The newspaper referred to a “culture starved generation”. The results of the survey were also published in the Arts Journal and the first comment was the following: “Perhaps 20 years ago, I was a ‘visiting artist’ in an upstate New York middle school. I asked the students how much disposable income they had to spend on ‘culture’ and what they spent it on. The answers fascinated me: these 13-year-olds thought nothing of dropping $50 on a ticket to a rock concert, or buying CDs. (...) I think that in 2012 the situation would be even more extreme. All the disposable income would go to supporting their smartphones, which make them cultural ‘producers’ as well as consumers”.

I found both the presentation of the survey results and the above comment worrying. Because they confirm the persistence of those old issues regarding access to culture, ‘high’ and ‘low’ culture. Because they confirm our slowness (or resistance) in reacting and adapting our thinking and practice to new realities.

Should the survey results had been read in the opposite way (let´s do the exercise and see, for example, that 6 in 10 children have entered an art gallery; 83% have visited a museum with their parents; 75% have been to the theatre; etc., etc.), I believe we would have concluded that this is not exactly a “culture starved generation”. But there are still other issues here. Are children, young people and adults considered to be cultured only when they visit museums and art galleries; only when they go to the theatre; only when they attend a classical music concert? So, what should one think about those people who, for various reasons (lack of time or money, lack of cultural institutions in their place of residence, having young children, etc.) watch theatre only on TV or DVD, listen to music (classical and other) only on CDs, know certain works of art only through books? When the encounter with culture does not occur within the walls of an ‘official’ institution, is it less valid? And what should one think of those people who nowadays watch opera and theatre transmitted live to cinemas? Of those who enjoy sharing the experience of a live performance through twitter and facebook? Of those who attend live concerts through the internet? Of those who see in detail works of art exhibited in various museums around the world through the Google Art Project? And there are still some more issues: a person who knows a lot about classical music is more cultured than someone who knows nothing, but knows a lot about the contemporary pop musical scene? And vice versa? The work of a musician or a filmmaker distributed through the You Tube has less quality than that which is exhibited in large cultural institutions, is their art less valid? And if a person admits not to like visiting museums or a specific form of art, is this a less cultured person?

Creator, producer, curator, programme director, distributor, spectator: nothing is what it used to be even just a few year ago. The way culture and the arts (in all their diversity) are being created, distributed and enjoyed, as well as the spaces where this takes place, is today as diverse as the people involved in them. A recent article by Susan Jones in the Guardian, Pitching up: Where is the place for art?, was a stimulating and refreshing contribution to the development of the thinking regarding the role of cultural institutions and people´s involvement in culture and the arts. At the end of this post, a number of articles show how new technologies have also contributed to these changes.

Culture, in its most diverse manifestations, is important in the life of most people. It opens windows to the world, it liberates the mind, it helps interrogate and look for answers, it entertains, it brings relief. It introduces us to the ‘other’, it is able to bring closer people who come from different backgrounds, who even speak different languages, it is something that can be shared. 

The times we live in and those that are approaching are difficult, critical times. They are times that are able to kill hope, to finish with many people´s world, the way they knew it, the way they liked it and wanted to preserve it. They are times of great changes, times that feed the fear of what is different, that turn diversity into a threat. In times like this, it is even more urgent and relevant to be paying attention to the changes, to create conditions for a greater cultural development and involvement of the people themselves, to invest more in “culture per capita” – an expression of the greek thinker Christos Yannaras -, to defend diversity. I am thus thinking a lot of the responsibilities this reality brings for culture professionals. I am thinking more and more of the children and young people whose families haven´t got the possibility to give them access to that extremely rich world that surrounds them, to those extremely diverse cultures. And I am thinking more and more of the decisive role the school, a teacher, can play in the lives of those people, the future adults. I think of Luis Soriano.

Still on this blog
Changes: are we paying enough attention?
La crise oblige? (ii) Programming challenges

More readings
Beyond live: Digital innovation in the performing arts
Arts Council England and BBC launch online arts channel
The free MOMA iPad app (video)
Introducing the new MOMA iPhone app (video)
Theatre for twits
More theatres reserve seats for tweeters
Drip-fed up: why don't theatres get Twitter?
Text your encore at the Mann
Broadway Actors Use Twitter to Connect with Friends, Fans, Industry

Building trust

Image taken from the article Sixty museums in search of a purpose in The Art Newspaper

Last summer, in one of the sessions of the fellowship at the Kennedy Center, we did a very interesting exercise. We participated in a sort of brainstorming regarding certain projects the DeVos Institut for Arts Management should get involved in. The criterion was not the interest of the projects themselves. They all were. But not all of them fit in the Institute´s mission, which is to train, support and empower arts managers and their boards locally, nationally and internationally. Just that. Clear, concise and complete, as all mission statements should be.

A concrete mission statement is the basis of every stategic plan. In the manual Strategic planning in the arts. A practical guide, written by Michael Kaiser, the author identifies six elements that should be considered when defining an institution´s mission. I consider three of them to be basic, applicable to all cases: the product/service; the audience; the geographic scope. Kaiser also mentions repertory and education, but I don´t think they are applicable to all cultural institutions and, anyway, they are part of the broader product/service definition. He also refers to quality, in the sense of the level of performance desired, but I believe that this issue is mainly related to our capacity (and obligation) to be realistic when defining our mission´s three basic elements.

It was very interesting to read András Szántó´s article Sixty museums in search of a purpose, where he analyses the mission statements of 60 american art museums. Apart from a semiological analysis, he raises questions like: “Should a mission describe what a museum is doing, or what it should be doing? Is it about tangible goals to which institutions are held accountable, or platonic ideals to which they merely aspire? Should a museum’s mission offer an inventory of assets and activities, or will it work best as a crystallisation of core principles? How will it reflect a museum’s take on cultural progress, audience demographics, funding sources and technological opportunity?”.

Going back to what I said before, a mission statement must be clear, concise and complete. Coherent, as well. It may not allow for different interpretations; it must be easily remembered (and ‘recited’) by all employees as well as external ‘customers’ (audiences, partners, sponsors); it must refer to all the areas in which the institution develops its activity; and it must be coherent, because it must make sense and be realistic. Thus, I would say that the mission should not be limited to what is actually being done, but it should also refer to what an institution realistically aspires to, in the short or medium term. And it shouldn´t be an exhaustive list of the concrete actions to be developed in order to reach the announced objectives (this should be part of the strategic plan). I had previously touched on this subject, in the post Vision, mission, strategy, where I was suggesting the reading of the mission statements of the Gulbenkian Foundation programme “Descobrir” and of the Casa da Música Education Service. They are still two of my favourite, mainly because of the choice of words and the vision they both transmit. Nevertheless, if we asked the people who are working to make them come true, would they be able to repeat them?

Writing a mission statement is not an easy task, should we want (and we must want) it to meet the above mentioned requirements. Fulfilling it is equally, or even more, difficult. There is a need for discipline, persistence. But, is there another way of tracing a clear path, following it (without unnecessary and/or harmful deviations) and evaluating our success? Following our mission is also a guarantee for an efficient and effective management of human and financial resources. And finally, an advantage in the creation of a distinct identity in the market; in other words, the definition and fulfillment of the mission are a branding instrument.

In this sense, I stronlgy recommend the article The cure for the not-for-profit crisis. The authors maintain that the decrease in the value of donations for not-for-profit sectors (such as the social and the cultural), registered in 2010, did not affect all institutions the same way. They talk of a “crisis of coherence”, of the lack of a strategy that connects the mission of some (many) institutions to their ability to deliver a specific service. Those who suffered the most from the decrease in donations were actually those that were more versatile in terms of mission and objectives (often in order to please possible sponsors). On the other hand, those which demonstrated that they had and followed a clear mission, which orientated their whole activity, which allowed them to demonstrate coherence and rigor, have not felt the same impact. A clear mission, coherence and rigor build trust. And, quite probably, the wish to ‘be part of’. Is this a surprise?

What can make the difference?



Photo taken from http://www.londontheatredirect.com/

War Horse is a production of the National Theatre in London which premiered in October 2007. In 2009 it moved to the West End. In 2011 it crossed the Atlantic to be presented in Broadway. In 2012 it will tour the US. It is a multi-award-winning production, adored by the public and theatre critics alike, and a huge commercial success. The annual profit of 3 million pounds from the West End presentations made the cuts in the Arts Council England´s grant insignificant for the National Theatre (read article here).

In May 2010, the Guardian published the article Theatre trailers: missing an opportunity. The journalist was encouraging theatres to become a bit more ambitious in the promotion of their productions, citing as good examples the National Theatre and Sadler´s Wells. It was in that article that I found the link for this trailer:

It was the first time I had seen a piece of this kind, reminding of film publicity, for the promotion of a theatre play. I remember to have felt delighted: the whole trailer edition (the rhythm, the choice of scenes, the music) made me wish to see the play, to get to know the story, to find out what happens in the end. Could this trailer be War Horse´s secret of success? Probably not. The secret – which is not a secret at all – is that those people who had seen the play loved it and told many-many more people about it. Could this trailer have made the difference in the decision process of those who saw the play in the opening? I don´t have concrete data, of course, but it is quite probable that it influenced them, a lot even, given that, among so much competition, among so many other options in London´s theatre offer, and not only, this approach marked a difference, generated emotions, fed word-of.mouth, created the need not to miss this play (in a much more tangible and effective way than the statement “Not to be missed!”, which many producers, especially in the music field, insist on using on every possible promotional material, from press releases to posters).

This issue of trailers for theatre plays came up once again recently in an article in the New York Times, Trailers to tempt the theatergoer. A more technical text, that presents some examples and makes available information regarding the producers, means and techniques, costs and, above all, the objectives set to achieve through the use of this medium: from presenting the aesthetics of a company to clarifying possible prejudices regarding the content of a play and, of course, reinforcing in people´s mind the strengths of a production, the reasons why one shouldn´t miss it.

These trailers made me think once again of the challenges Communication professionals keep facing when constantly looking for new ways and new means of reaching the audiences. The environment in which we operate is constantly and quickly changing: the offer is bigger; the purchasing power, at this moment, smaller; the technological means at our disposal (and that of the public) are deeply affecting the relationship between ‘producer’ and ‘consumer’. What can make the difference in the minds and hearts of people? What is needed in order to draw their attention, arouse interest, generate enthusiasm, convince them to come all the way to our theatre, museum, gallery, auditorium?

I am certain of onw thing: no more publicity is needed. ‘Publicity’ in the format of a newspaper ad with information regarding what, where, when. I believe that this medium is still useful, although it is not the main one anymore, in order to keep informed those people who normally follow the city´s cultural offer, who attend performances, who visit exhibitions and who bring along or recommend a specific activity to other people; and it is also useful, mainly useful, in order to reinforce a cultural institution´s image, to ‘mark territory’. The newspaper ad – as well as the TV spot, I could add here – is today a means for institutional marketing and not programmatic marketing. Actually, was it ever, given the not so inspired use we have given it?

What can make the difference, then? Imagination. Innovation. Simplicity. The intention to demystify, to make accessible. The wish to touch, marvel, inspire people. To make them think. And also to make them forget.

How can this be done? It can be a trailer like the one of War Horse; it can be a campaign like “Do you want to see in 3D? Come to the theatre”, promoted two years ago by the D.Maria II National Theatre - Lisbon (a bright exception, in my opinion, in what is normally understood as “publicity campaign” by portuguese cultural institutions);

it can be a video like this one of the series Le Louvre Invisible, which shares brief moments of our institutions´ day-to-day life; it can be a programming director who makes a point of explaining to the employees at the box office what are the strengths of each project, why the public cannot miss each of the proposals, in a way they, the employees, and, through them, the audience may feel more clear and informed, curious and interested, and maybe even more prone to take a risk with something new (I am referring here to João Godinho´s practice when he was responsible for programming music at the Belem Cultural Centre, Lisbon); it can be the simple emails more and more artists, museum directors, curators, programming directors send to their, more or less extensive, circle of friends and acquaintances, personally presenting their work and inviting to attend/visit, in a much more direct, personal, accessible and enthusiastic way – inevitably turning that same circle of people into messengers; it can be an initiative as simple, funny and involving as It´s Time we Met of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, now in its fourth edition;  it can be a special way of wishing “Happy New Year”:

Read Nina Simon´s post Open thread: How does your institution say happy new year?

Disconnected examples of things I have read and seen recently. What is common in all of them is the wish to reach people, to extend the invitation, to make a connection, to demonstrate relevance, to create involvement and complicity.

Wishing the journey is a long one

It all started six months ago, in a museum: the National Museum of African Art in Washington. No, it wasn´t an object. It was a film. A screen in a small corner showing a film about senagalese sculptor Ousmane Sow and his impressive and powerful figures. I had never heard of him before. I stood behind other people trying to watch. I got completely absorbed, seeing him while he was working, listening to his voice and his beautiful french. I went back the following week just for the film. Fewer people this time, but still no place to sit, so I sat on the floor and watched it again. Twice.

Ousmane Sow (Photo taken from http://www.africultures.com/)

So, no wonder, when I started thinking of my next destination, Senegal was first on the list. I bought the guidebook and started reading and searching on the internet. It´s always exciting preparing a trip, but this time I realised I was preparing to go to a country I knew absolutely nothing about, apart from having a vague idea about its strong musical tradition. I knew nothing about its political history nor about its peoples, its cultures and arts.

Until recently, Africa below the Sahara didn´t exist in my mind (and in my readings) before the 15th-16th century. I was confined to the arab north, which always fascinated me (only to be confronted recently with a statement in the blog Africa is a Country that “‘arab’ is an imperial and ahistorical term that creates a false distinction between ‘North’ and ‘Sub-Saharan’ Africa”. Point quickly taken...). Little by little, I delved into the world of emperors and warriors and preachers who made history in the west african region before the arrival of the europeans and whose deeds are sung by the griots (praise singers, guardians of oral history).

More on Volker Goetze´s documentary here.

And, despite thinking initially that this was a men´s world, I´ve come across the griottes and, among them, a very special senegalese lady, Yandé Codou Sène, who passed away in 2010 and who was proud of her art (it´s worth seeing the video below; once she overcomes her anger, she actually sings – in minute 5), respected and cherished by her people (see here).

From oral history, I moved on to the written word and one of the first figures to come up was Léopold Sédar Senghor, Senegal´s first elected president, but also a thinker and a poet (among his most known poems, Femme noire and Poème à mon frère blanc), the first african to enter the French Academy. Some of his speeches on négritude (a concept he firmly imposed on the political dialogue of his time, that places the emphasis on black african ideas and culture as opposed to the french colonial policies of assimilation) may be heard here. Regarding other writers, I was initially limited to the ‘classics’ presented in my guidebook and I got particularly interested in two ladies, whose books I rushed to buy. Mariama Bâ, a feminist who was profoundly concerned with the fate of african women (their right to get educated, their place in a patriarchal and polygamistic society), wrote in 1981 a short story called So Long a Letter. Aminata Sow Fall, a critic of senegalese society – its inequalities, the power of the political elites –, is the author of four novels, the most famous one being The beggars´ strike. My search then took me to the younger generation, whom I look forward to ‘meeting’ in Dakar´s Athena bookshop: Sokhna Benga, Fama Diagne Sène, Woré Ndiaye Kandji, to mention a few. And, to mention also a man, Boubacar Boris Diop, author of Murambi, the book of bones, and a writer who, a few years ago, decided to write again in wolof, one of the languages spoken in Senegal (read article here).

Music is what really marks senegalese culture. It´s undoubtedly the biggest chapter in my guidebook. Once we start searching, there are so many names, so many different genres. What particularly caught my attention, though, in the middle of so much information, is the involvement of the the music world in the upcoming presidential elections, scheduled to take place next month. Apart from the country´s most famous singer worldwide, Youssou Ndour, being a candidate, there is a movement of young rappers, called Y´ en a Marre, challenging the actual President, Abdoulaye Wade, who tried to change the Constitution in order to be able to run for a third mandate (read the article in Le Monde here). The movement can be found on Facebook.

Senegalese cinema was another art I knew absolutely nothing about. I was so excited to find Ousmane Sembène´s (Senegal´s most known cinematographer; 1923-2007) Moolaadé fully available on You Tube, only to find out it had no subtitles in a language I could understand (those who understand bambara can find it here; the rest of us can get a feeling of it from the trailer).

And just as Sembène deals in his movie with female genital mutilation, Joseph Gaï Ramaka (1952 - ) is breaking other taboos in Karmen Gei, approaching sensuality and lesbian love.

There is very little one can find on the internet regarding Senegal´s big reference in photography, Mama Casset (1908 – 1992), namely photos. But my search took me also to the younger references. I particularly liked the work of Boubacar Touré Mandémory, especially, among his albums available on Flickr, the one entitled Émigration Clandestine.

Photo: Mama Casset

Among the various senegalese fashion designers who are leaving their mark in their industry internationally, I was very-very impressed with Oumou Sy and her particular way of mixing tradition with contemporary design (video of one of her fashion shows here).

Design: Oumou Sy

Another reference, in what concerns senegalese textiles, is Aissa Dione, here in a very interesting interview for CulturaDakar (a cultural initiative of the Spanish Embassy in Dakar):

It was dance/performance that brought me back to the man who inspired this trip: Danielle Gabou´s Hommage à Ousmane Sow (see here), which I found deeply touching. Moving on from there to contemporary senegalese dance, I was amazed at the performance of Assane Thiam Contemporary Sabar Dance Group in the streets of Dakar.

So, these are some of the references I came across while preparing for my trip to Senegal. Soon I´ll be on a plane to Dakar and I can´t wait to discover for myself everything one cannot find in a guidebook: the smells, the tastes, the noise, the silence, the mood and wisdom of people. The feeling of spending the night under the sky of the Lompoul Desert.

Photo taken from http://www.gite-africain.com/

Note: The diary from the journey to Senegal is published here.

2011 was special also thanks to...

Two books

and

Three documentaries

and

and

One film

Two performances

and

The 'encounter' with Ousmane Sow at the National Museum of African Art in Washington



Photo taken from http://www.africultures.com/



And the journey to the marvellous 'end of the world'