…and all the accounts merely players.
Several years ago, when I was slowly letting go of my final lingering desires to keep working as a dancer, I came up with a plan for a dance company that I thought was particularly clever. I spouted this idea to fellow dancers whom I thought may be game to work with me on the concept and got resounding enthusiasm back from everyone who heard my pitch. The idea was a contemporary dance company that only existed in social media – specifically on Instagram.
All performances, all possible interactions, all information would be held solely in the mobile social platform which at that time still limited video content to 15 seconds, had no Stories feature, no advertising, no Instagram Live, and no verified accounts. The very constraints of what kinds of performances, and what kind of content could be used to create a relevant performing company in this digital space was, in fact, the appeal of this project. That, and my underlying notion that the “audience” I could curate for the company on Instagram would be a young, vibrant, and perhaps less traditional set than the patrons I’d see at traditional theater performances. A final bonus of having all our “shows” on Instagram, would be the lack of needing to sell tickets or somehow pay for theater rentals which I imagined would be less-stressful and artistically freeing for everyone involved.
While brainstorming this artistic pipe-dream, my professional career in social media marketing and content creation for performing arts organizations began to take off, and the concept casually drifted off my to-do list. But while I honed my expertise on “selling” dance, theater, music, and events across the social media channels of my employers, I continued to profess the power of Instagram, particularly for promoting dance. It was such a natural place to share the beautifully photogenic lines of dancers, and with every strong dance image I shared, the account was met with a flurry of interactions – likes, comments, regrams! I couldn’t get enough and continued to give those followers what I could see they wanted through our social analytics, more dance.
It was around this time that I was regularly being asked by my senior management to explain to executives, board members, and important donors just what I was doing with this “social media thing.” Why did it matter, and how was it even relevant to the performing arts. Being a dutiful employee, I did my best to break down not only the value of social media marketing but the essence of what this change in media consumption could mean to the performing arts. The artistic possibilities it opened up, and the accessibility it gave to people who may not otherwise be able to experience such artforms in the physical theaters I was promoting. I pitched these concepts over and over with as much gusto as I could muster, but I could see it wasn’t really resonating. The people I was pitching to weren’t using Instagram, and it was as if every word I sputtered out about the platform was just jibberish to them.
I even saw some prominent dance companies shun the channel at this time. They claimed that they would rather focus on one social media channel (Facebook) and do it exceptionally well, then have multiple mediocre channels. I disagreed with this approach, but even accepting the logic behind this theory I had to question – why not just do Instagram then? I saw a future in Instagram, and a demographic that was more engaged, more mobile, more dance-focused, and spanned an age group that every arts organization was salivating over – millennials.
Fast forward a few years and the many ways companies – artistic, non-profit, and for-profit alike – have embraced social media marketing and communications has changed drastically. The need for explaining why an organization needs a presence on Instagram seems charmingly old-fashioned now, even though the time since those bygone days of mine is incredibly short. Few dance companies fail to not only create a presence on Instagram but prioritize it as a place to focus their communications content and strategy. The tables have turned, and continue to turn in exciting directions as the platform grows, changes, and expands its content capabilities.
My quaint idea of a dance company existing solely on Instagram now seems not only feasible but understandable, even to all those executives I once tried to convince of the social channel’s relevance. In fact, I am sure there is at least one, if not several performing organizations, who have already made this their artistic realities. What I find even more exciting is the way many dance companies and their artists have begun working in tandem – a sort of one, two, punch of Instagrammable content – to promote the work their doing and the shows they’re producing from both the organizational and individual perspectives. Companies like American Ballet Theatre began leveraging their company members’ often large followings by integrating their individual instagram content into the brand’s feed. It is a perfect method for extending a marketing strategy they’ve actually been using for decades – banking on the star-quality of their highest-ranking members, only now, instead of executing it through print ads and traditional PR alone, they can do it instantly, for less money, and to a wider audience all through a mobile app.
Likewise, many dancers understand how their own individual content on Instagram not only adds to their personal brands but can play into the marketing and communication goals of the artistic entities that employ them. For instance, in a conversation I had with bi-coastal ballet superstar Maria Kochetkova, I thanked her for sharing a post that I shared on an organizational Instagram account promoting an upcoming performance she was participating in. She regrammed the post on her account, with upwards of 25 thousand followers (it’s over 170K now) and I saw the organizations feed surge with new followers, likes, and clicks to our link for tickets in the bio.
She replied with such gracious sincerity, suggesting that her promotion was the most natural thing in the world and confiding that she knew how hard it can be to sell dance in Los Angeles. I was grateful and impressed. She understood, not only my role but the role she had to play as both an artist who was to be featured in the show but also as social media influencer. And it helped. It helped tremendously.
More recently, I’ve worked with several young dancers who understand the power, if maybe not the privilege, of Instagram and have no doubt that they will continue to push boundaries of how the platform can promulgate the artform, and even influence the art itself. As such, I find this to be an exciting time for both dance and tech, as together there is one more outlet, one more stage, for new artists to be seen, create, and inspire.
Heather Toner 