Yesterday I settled into a table at Busboys and Poets on U street to meet a dear artist friend. He’s exploring an artistic leadership position and wanted to pick my brain about fundraising and I was more than happy to help.
As we got started, I realized this was one of the places where Capital Fringe was born. Back then I’d meet with artists here (the only Busboys location at the time), at Teaism down in Penn Quarter, or at the Warehouse Theatre (a venue that doesn’t exist anymore but deserves an entire article praising its critical role in our artistic community).
For just a moment, I felt like younger Damian again, working to build something new and exciting. I won’t lie, it felt great. Back then I was selling a vision to our community, sharing my passion for what was possible in our city.
I'm a more seasoned version of Damian now, but still thrilled to be supporting the artists I love. This time coaching an artist on something very similar to those earlier visits to this gathering place.
Early in the conversation I said something to my friend that I could tell he didn’t believe.
“As an artistic leader, you have the easiest job in the fundraising process.”
The look on his face made his surprise clear, so I explained.
The artist holds inside them the very thing a donor wants most. The idea. The spark. The vision. The why. I’ve come to believe that we give to the arts in order to get closer to the art itself, and to the vision behind it. And no one holds that vision the way the artist does.
Think about the difference between a ticket and a gift. Buying a ticket is, for the most part, transactional. We get the ticket, grab dinner, go see the show. Maybe we want to be entertained, maybe challenged, maybe we just want to escape for a couple of hours. But when a patron makes a donation, something else is happening. They’re not buying an experience. They’re trying to get closer to the art, and to the people making it.
As a development director, I can gesture at that vision and approximate it, translate it, carry it into a room. However, I will never be able to share it with the power the artist can. The artist is the source, so in that specific and important way, the artist has the easiest job in the whole process. They already are the thing everyone is reaching for.
What I encouraged my friend to do was think about his role as a creator beyond the closed doors of the rehearsal hall. To see himself as the key to bringing supporters closer to the work. To lead the process of opening those doors and pulling back the curtain on why he’s doing this show, why he’s curating this season, why any of it matters to him. Because in the end, those are the stories that build passion in a community.
We talked about the practical ways to do it. Open rehearsals. Preshow emails. Opening nights. Artist talkbacks. Every theater in town does some combination of these already. But here’s the thing I’ve noticed. Not all of them actually pull back the curtain. So often we’re just going through the motions, doing what we’ve always done, without stopping to ask the only question that matters: what do we want someone to walk away with? What should they feel, or understand, or carry home that they didn’t have before? The activity isn’t the point. The intention behind it is.
I gave him one concrete suggestion to take with him. Block off a dedicated time every week, and simply call a few supporters. Don’t ask for anything. Just talk with them about what’s happening behind the scenes, what the theater is reaching for, what’s alive in the rehearsal hall right now. This small, proactive, human connection, when practiced week after week will have a ripple effect in the community.
Looking for these opportunities to share the why brings our audiences a little closer to the work and the art. We leave them with a picture, an idea, or a feeling about our process that they didn’t walk in with.
Do that, and you’ll build more passionate supporters and more durable support. Because what a donor is truly looking for is connection to the art.
And that may be the easiest gift we have to give.