Hard Times Guide

How Not to Fail in Theatre: Drop the Half-priced Period Costumes and Buy a Little Common Sense Instead

How many theatres out there — how many arts organizations — heck, how many nonprofits in general — are running in the black? Fewer and fewer these days — they’re short on money for expensive advertising, and are often operating with a skeleton staff.

Yet you’d be hard-pressed to find a more relaxed pair of artistic directors than Kent Phillips and Alyson Soma of Bellevue Civic Theatre. They banter as cheerfully as they must have done when they began the company in 1999 with a mission to provide quality entertainment for the Eastside. While many of their counterparts fret about budgets, donations and butts in seats, Phillips and Soma can afford to relax: even in this down economy, BCT is running in the black — and has been doing so, in fact, for its entire ten-year history.

Production shot from Forever Plaid, produced at Bellevue Civic Theatre;
photo by Stuart Ross.

Phillips, a familiar presence on local TV and radio, is a rare breed: an actor with a head for business. After making a pile in the 1980s buying and selling radio stations around the country, he wanted to see if he could start a theatre that would not make money, not lose money, but merely break even.

Living on the Eastside, Phillips knew Bellevue was a big market with no resident company. He enlisted Soma, a friend in radio ad sales who was moonlighting as an actress. Together they crunched numbers and considered scripts; they looked at area theatres to learn what shows were most popular with local audiences; they announced a season of proven hits like The Odd Couple and Angry Housewives and began to sell subscriptions.

Production shot from Grace & Glorie, produced at Bellevue Civic Theatre;
photo by Tom Ziegler.

Okay, you might be thinking, but other theatre companies do those shows all the time, yet many struggle or disappear altogether. To paraphrase a song from The Producers, where did these two go right?

They followed some basic principles:

Save up first. BCT didn’t open until Phillips and Soma had raised enough cash — from the City of Bellevue, private donors and subscribers — to run a full season comfortably.

Spend on marketing. Half of that initial stake was spent on marketing — like buying mailing lists in the zip codes where their research had shown the most regular theatregoers.

Spend only what you have. They tallied up all the cash on hand and figured out just how much they could spend on that first season of four plays. “Some theatres have spent all their revenue by the second show,” says Phillips. “And they spend their grant money before they even get it. No other business in the world operates that way.”

Repeat. Being ahead allows you to stay ahead. “We have our donor campaign in October, but the money we raise this October is for next season,” Phillips explains. “All the grants go into that pot, along with the season ticket money. And that’s our budget. Period.”

Phillips has a “rising tide lifts all boats” philosophy; he doesn’t like to see any theatre fail. In 2004, the Tacoma Actors Guild was deeply in debt and planning to fold. “They were going to leave their ticket holders high and dry, and I felt that was bad for theatre,” he says. “So we met with them and agreed to run their theatre for two years.

“We came in and did our kinds of shows — Forever Plaid, Noises Off — and they were packed. But TAG still failed after we left, because they went back to doing very artistic new stuff. I had to go mainstream, to build up their base…but it turns out I may have done them a disservice.”

A similar intervention at Renton Civic Theater was more successful.

Production shot from Rumors, produced at Bellevue Civic Theatre;
photo by Neil Simon.

These experiences gave Phillips and Soma further insight into the finicky world of arts in the Northwest. They’re using it to expand on the success they’ve had in Bellevue, incorporating Renton Civic as well as adding a new branch, the Kirkland Repertory Theatre. Each troupe will present some shows of its own, while sharing others to reduce costs. But they will all share BCT’s brand of doing business:

Give ’em what they want. Phillips isn’t advocating that every theatre do Nothing But Neil Simon. Do the research, find out whatever it is that folks in your area like to see, and stick to it. “Our theatre wouldn’t work in Belltown,” Phillips acknowledges.

Don’t undercut yourself by offering discounts. “We don’t do two-for-one nights, we don’t do ten-dollar tickets on Thursdays. If you’re a season ticket holder, you get the best price, no matter what. Why would I buy a season ticket if I know I can get a half-price ticket later on?”

Go “hyper-local.” That’s the term Phillips applies to his growing operation, as well as to the future of the arts throughout greater Seattle. Traffic is getting worse, new large venues like PACE will compete with the Paramount and eventually bridge tolls will make patrons even more inclined to stay close to home.

“In the past, we helped other theatre companies,” Phillips sums up. “Now, we’re seeding new companies. And what I hope will happen is: those companies will grow, and we’ll walk away, and they’ll work on their own.”

The nonprofit theatre that wasn’t supposed to survive now runs more like a business than most. That’s how BCT has avoided the financial strife that bedevils other theatres. “But we have to keep Bellevue Civic healthy,” cautions Soma. “That’s always our priority. Otherwise we can’t do all the rest.”