Field Notes Vol. 5 no 4: The Next Chapter for Arts Entrepreneurship

I’ve been waffling about the topic for this latest edition of “Field Notes.” Should I observe the 5-year anniversary of the Covid lockdown by reflecting on things artists and arts organizations learned…and opportunities we missed? (Nah: aren’t we all tired of talking about the pandemic??) Perhaps I should use recent conversations in my corner of academia to once again get on my soapbox regarding the importance of interdisciplinary teaching and research, and the terrible job that higher ed is doing to facilitate true interdisciplinary collaboration? (I think we need to frame things more positively right now; who needs to hear me kvetch, especially when I’m likely preaching to the choir?) Then of course there’s recent actions in Washington intended to either undermine arts and culture and/or turn them into mouthpieces of the state. (Does anyone on this mailing list need to be convinced on these issues? If so, feel free to contact me directly and we can talk! Otherwise, see above re: preaching/choir.)

I suppose choosing between these various topics is kind of emblematic of the state of our world right now: so many things happening all at once that it’s hard to know how to engage with any of it. And so, just as I am trying to do re: the many issues vying for attention in my own life, I will focus on what I know most closely and where my perspective might be the most useful.

Two weeks back I attended the annual conference of the Society for Arts Entrepreneurship Education, hosted by the good folks at UM-Kansas City. It was my first time back in-person for SAEE since the pandemic (I missed last year’s meeting) and so I hadn’t seen some of these folks since 2019 — when, coincidentally, we’d hosted the conference here in Boulder. The mood at the conference was summed up well by outgoing SAEE President Jim Hart, who remarked on the history of the organization (founded by a small group of us back in 2014) and where he sees the field headed now. He hit the nail squarely on the head when he stated, “Up until now, our field has been focused on what we could learn from the business school and how to apply those things to the arts. But now I feel the next chapter will be showing the business school what they can learn from us.” 

When I wrote The Entrepreneurial Muse back in 2018, it was the culmination of nearly a decade’s worth of work in the emerging field of arts entrepreneurship, assessing entrepreneurial precepts from the b-school and making the case that they could not only to inform the “business side of the arts” but could also be used to empower and even inspire one’s creative practice. This was necessary, partly because most artists simply didn’t know or understand those precepts, and partly because there was often significant resistance (or downright suspicion) towards something that was perceived as a threat to artistic integrity. 

I think we’ve largely won that battle now. Back in 2009, when I first began at the Entrepreneurship Center for Music here at University of Colorado, I would ask first year undergrads to raise their hands if they were a little wary of this entrepreneurship thing…if thinking about art as a “product” caused any uneasiness. A majority of hands would go up. Not anymore. There are many potential reasons for this, but the bottom line is that the new generation of artists coming up is a lot more accepting of the reality that artistic excellence alone is not enough to guarantee a career that is both artistically fulfilling and financially sustainable. Young artists today, on the whole, tend not to look at “the business side of things” as a threat to their artistry. They still probably don’t see entrepreneurship as facilitating their artistry, but it’s a significant start.

And in a way, that’s where we are in terms of what we can teach the b-school as well: to the extent creativity is discussed at all in traditional entrepreneurship programs, it’s seen as a tool for developing ideas that can in turn undergo entrepreneurial treatment that results in a profitable venture. And that’s valuable, to be sure. But here’s the question that intrigues me: What if we turned that notion on its head? What if we asked ourselves how the entrepreneurial process might spur creativity, rather than the other way around? 

One thing I’ve heard countless business entrepreneurs say over the years is this:  If you’ve got an idea, just dive in. Just do it. Fail fast and often; learn, iterate, and repeat the cycle until you get it right.

That’s rarely how musicians work (classical ones, anyway). Yes, iteration is an important part of mastering musical material (i.e., practicing); but unless one is a composer, musicians start with a musical score; they study it, listen to it, perhaps analyze it, before they begin to actually master the musical material. It’s a very different process from the “Just dive in and figure it out as you go” method. 

Moreover, not everyone tackles problems the same way. “Just dive in and do it” is a great way to cause many folks to freeze up — and conclude that they must not be cut out to be an entrepreneur. Perhaps understanding various artistic practices can provide new insights into b-school entrepreneurship? Certainly a potentially rich area worthy of new research. 

And while academia has certainly been under fire lately, we embody something of critical importance for a thriving economy: we recognize that most advances in most fields happen in a community of collaboration. Sharing our work and discussing it with others inspires new ideas; Constructive feedback helps refine and polish our work; Young scholars need avenues to gain experience and support. These qualities are among the most vital and meaningful parts of academia. And while the B-school certainly does a lot of work around team-building, the performing arts – where students are learning in both the isolation of the practice room and in collaboration with their colleagues – are the real ‘rock stars’ of team-building and collaboration in an academic setting. We have a lot we can teach our colleagues across campus.

The importance of collaborative communities was underscored during Covid. The lockdown showed us the limitations of purely online communities (though they helped us get through a challenging time) and perhaps helped us to remember just how important in-person collaboration is. The fact that remote collaboration was probably hardest in the performing arts is worthy of further scrutiny, and I suspect could yield interesting insights into the nature of human interaction that could have broad application.

And lastly, the multiple attacks on multiple fronts that we’re experiencing right now – co-opting the arts, cutting  funding to the sciences, undermining education (both public and private) – show us that we must stand united, regardless of our particular discipline: artists and scientists; academics and non-academics; people of faith and agnostics. If ever there was a time for us to build bridges between fields of study and belief systems, it’s now. And again, I believe the arts can help us do this. 

A community of scholars and educators is essential at any time, but now it’s a matter of our very survival: if the next chapter of our field – and of countless other fields – is to be written, we must stand strong together.

Huh. Looks like I managed to talk about all those topics I was waffling about after all!