As a group of stagehands assembled train cars for the set of \u201cMurder on the Orient Express,\u201d Ken Martin looked grimly at his email. His first year as artistic director at the Clarence Brown Theater in Knoxville, Tenn., was coming to an end, and the theater had missed its income goals by several hundred thousand dollars, largely because it had lost about half its subscribers since the start of the pandemic.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve already had to tear up one show, because of a combination of cost and I don\u2019t think it\u2019s going to sell,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m in the same boat as a lot of theater companies: How do I get the audience back, and once I get them in the door, how do I keep them for the next show?\u201d<\/p>\n
The nonprofit theater world\u2019s industrywide crisis, which has led to closings, layoffs and a reduction in the number of shows being staged, is being exacerbated by a steep drop in the number of people who buy theater subscriptions, in which they pay upfront to see most or all of a season\u2019s shows. The once-lucrative subscription model had been waning for years, but it has fallen off a cliff since the pandemic struck.<\/p>\n
It is happening across the nation. Seattle\u2019s 5th Avenue Theater had 13,566 subscribers last season, down from 19,770 before the pandemic. In Atlanta, the Alliance Theater ended last season with 3,208, down from a prepandemic 5,086, while Northlight Theater, in Skokie, Ill., is at about 3,200, down from 5,700.<\/p>\n
Theaters are losing people like Joanne Guerriero, 61, who dropped her subscription to Paper Mill Playhouse in Millburn, N.J., after realizing she only liked some of the productions there, and would rather be more selective about when and where she saw shows.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe haven\u2019t missed it,\u201d she said, \u201cwhich is unfortunate, I suppose, for them.\u201d<\/p>\n
Subscribers were long the lifeblood of many performing arts organizations \u2014 a reliable income stream, and a guarantee that many seats would be filled. The pandemic hastened their disappearance for a number of reasons, according to interviews with theater executives around the country and theatergoers who let their subscriptions lapse. Many longtime subscribers simply got out of the habit while theaters were closed. Others grew to appreciate the ease and flexibility of streamed entertainment at home. Some found the recent programming too didactic. And the slow return to offices meant fewer people were commuting into the downtown areas where regional theaters are often located.<\/p>\n
Many artistic leaders believe the change is permanent.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe strategic conversation is no longer \u2018What version of a membership brochure is going to bring in more members,\u2019 but how do we replace that revenue, and replenish the relationship with audiences,\u201d said Jeremy Blocker, the executive director of New York Theater Workshop, an Off Broadway nonprofit that has seen its average number of members (its term for subscribers) drop by 50 percent since before the pandemic.<\/p>\n
Why do subscribers matter?<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. 1, it reduces your cost of marketing hugely \u2014 you\u2019re selling three or five tickets for the cost of one,\u201d said Michael M. Kaiser, the chairman of the DeVos Institute of Arts Management at the University of Maryland. \u201cNo. 2, you get the cash up front, which helps fund the rehearsal period and the producing period. And No. 3, subscriptions give you artistic flexibility \u2014 if people are willing to buy all the shows, some subset of the total can be less familiar and more challenging, but if you don\u2019t have subscribers, every production is sold on its own merits, and that makes taking artistic risk much more difficult.\u201d<\/p>\n
There\u2019s also a strong connection between subscriptions and contributions. \u201cMost donors are subscribers,\u201d said Maggie Mancinelli-Cahill, the producing artistic director of Capital Repertory Theater in Albany, N.Y., \u201cso there\u2019s a cycle here.\u201d<\/p>\n
Theaters are simultaneously trying to retain \u2014 or reclaim \u2014 subscribers, and also reduce their dependence on them. Many are experimenting with ways to make subscriptions more flexible, or more attractive, but also seeing an upside in the need to find new patrons.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor some theaters, a reliance on an existing homogeneous group of patrons has really shaped the work they\u2019re doing,\u201d said Erica Ezold, managing director of People\u2019s Light, a nonprofit theater in Malvern, Pa. \u201cUltimately it\u2019s going to be really positive to be not as reliant on subscriber income and have greater diversity in our audiences.\u201d<\/p>\n
Programming is clearly on the mind of lapsed subscribers around the country. Even as subscriptions have fallen sharply at regional nonprofits whose mission is to develop new voices and present noncommercial work, they have remained steadier at venues that present touring Broadway shows with highly recognizable titles.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s so much going on with the \u2018ought-to-see-this-because-you\u2019re-going-to-be-taught-a-lesson\u2019 stuff, and I\u2019m OK with that, but part of me thinks we\u2019re going a little overboard, and I need to have some fun,\u201d said Melissa Ortuno, 61, of Queens. She describes herself as a frequent theatergoer \u2014 she has already seen 17 shows this year \u2014 but finds herself now preferring to purchase tickets for individual shows, rather than subscriptions. \u201cI want to take a shot, but I don\u2019t want to be dictated to. And this way I can buy what I want.\u201d<\/p>\n
But there are other reasons subscribers have stepped away, including age. \u201cWe\u2019re all old, that\u2019s the problem,\u201d said Happy Shipley, 77, of Erwinna, Pa., who decided to renew her subscription at the Bucks County Playhouse, but sees others making a different choice. \u201cMany of them don\u2019t stay up late anymore; they\u2019re anxious about parking, walking, crime, public transportation, increased need of restrooms, you name it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Arts administrators say that many people who were previously frequent theatergoers remain fans of the art form, but now attend less frequently, a phenomenon confirmed in interviews with supersubscribers \u2014 culture vultures who had multiple subscriptions \u2014 who say they are scaling back.<\/p>\n
Lisa-Karyn Davidoff, 63, of Manhattan, subscribed to 10 theaters before the pandemic; now she is far more choosy, citing a combination of health concerns and reassessed priorities. \u201cIf there\u2019s a great cast or something I can\u2019t miss,\u201d she said, \u201cI will go.\u201d Rena Tobey, a 64-year-old New Yorker, had at least 12 theater subscriptions before the pandemic, and now has none, citing an ongoing concern about catching Covid in crowds, a new appreciation for television and streaming, and a sense that theaters are programming shows for people other than her. \u201cFor many years, I\u2019ve pushed my boundaries, and I\u2019m just at a point where I don\u2019t want to do it anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n
And Jeanne Ryan Wolfson, a 67-year-old from Rockville, Md., who had four performing arts subscriptions prepandemic, is just finding she likes an \u00e0 la carte approach to ticket purchasing; she kept two of her previous subscriptions, dropped two, and added a new one. \u201cI was paying a lot of money for the subscriptions, and some of the productions within those packages were a bit disappointing or might not have the wow factor I was looking for,\u201d she said. \u201cI think what I want to do is pick and choose.\u201d<\/p>\n
Martin said the Knoxville theater\u2019s staff has spent much of the summer discussing the drop in subscriber numbers \u2014 the theater had about 3,000 before the pandemic, but 1,500 last season \u2014 and hired a marketing firm to study the situation.<\/p>\n
Now he is picking productions carefully. He has set aside his dream of staging William Congreve\u2019s \u201cThe Way of the World,\u201d worried that the Restoration comedy wouldn\u2019t find an audience. This season he\u2019s starting with \u201cMurder on the Orient Express,\u201d which should do well, followed by a war horse \u2014 the annual production of \u201cA Christmas Carol\u201d \u2014 and \u201cThe Giver,\u201d which Martin hopes will appeal to younger audiences because it was adapted from a popular young adult novel.<\/p>\n
Then comes \u201cKinky Boots,\u201d the kind of uplifting musical comedy many of today\u2019s audiences seem to want. (\u201cKinky Boots,\u201d with a plot that involves drag queens, also makes a statement for a theater in Tennessee, where lawmakers have attempted to restrict drag shows.) There will be more adventurous productions, but in a smaller theater: \u201cThe Moors\u201d by Jen Silverman, and \u201cAnon(ymous)\u201d by Naomi Iizuka.<\/p>\n
But selling tickets show by show, instead of as a package, is challenging and expensive.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt takes three times as much money, time and effort to bring in someone new,\u201d said Tom Cervone, the theater\u2019s managing director. He said the theater is trying everything it can \u2014 print advertising, public radio sponsorships, social media posts, plus appearances at local street fairs and festivals where the theater\u2019s staff will hand out brochures and swag (branded train whistles to promote \u201cMurder on the Orient Express,\u201d for example) while trying to persuade passers-by to come see a show.<\/p>\n
The theater, which is on the flagship campus of the University of Tennessee, is less dependent than some on ticket revenue, because, like a number of other regional nonprofits, it is affiliated with a university that subsidizes its operations. Still, the money it earns from ticket sales is essential to balancing the budget.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s been scary some days,\u201d Cervone said, \u201clike, where is everybody?\u201d<\/p>\n