Last night I performed with the fabulous (and fabulously named) Grand Theft Impro guys at a pub in London. I've directed over fifty improv shows in 2009 but performed in just three. This was the first one that I properly enjoyed, probably because I struck that vital balance between caring and not-caring that performing requires.
And I mean 'performing' in every sense of the word.
Friday, 30 October 2009
Thursday, 29 October 2009
An extremely trite observation
Any city where residential property prices are a regular topic conversation is most likely a pretty good place to live.
Craving certainty
When visiting the family farm I spent a few hours driving around the place with my brother-in-law. He's a thirtysomething guy who spent his twenties on the other side of the farm gate working as a grain trader. He is a smart, hardworking and independently-minded guy who is always open to new ideas but one who also craves certainty in an uncertain world.
He has access to experienced counsel from my father and his own parents but the combination of relative inexperience, an impulse for independence and a conflicting need for greater certainty is still a potentially deadly one.
Farming* is infamously fickle. My brother-in-law has to deal with a raft of totally uncontrollable variables: the weather, bushfires and other environmental factors; as well as stock, fuel and fertiliser prices, which are in turn influenced by macroeconomic factors such as interest and exchange rates. Conversely, he has a high degree of long-term control over capital investment in water supply, fencing and herd genetics and total short-term control over what cattle he buys and sells and where on the farm they'll graze.
From time to time he makes bad calls but always admits as much. Still, owning up to your mistakes is necessary for small business success but it isn't sufficient.
Recently he's happened on a system called Holistic Farm Management and he spent most of our farm tour expounding its virtues as a way of reducing the manifold uncertainty he's facing. With his permission I put on my 'consultants' hat' and quizzed him about the system.
As I understand it Holistic Farm Management is the idea that protecting the long-term health of your pasture is a higher priority than maximising the short-term value of your herd. The implication is that a farmer takes a whole-of-farm approach to pasture management and regulates stock numbers accordingly. The corollary being that the day-to-day market price for beef is mostly ignored.
The system is espoused by a local guru who alternates between saying that Holistic Farm Management is simply long-standing common sense (my father's position) and that it's an agricultural revolution waiting to happen (what my brother-in-law wants to hear). The spiel also includes a pitch for grasslands to be recognised (and rewarded) as carbon sinks in the global warming debate and a quasi-historical analysis of the carrying capacity of the Serengeti.
My layman's assessment of Holistic Farm Management is that it is a worthwhile philosophy overlaid with a dangerously rigid system based on arbitrary inputs (ie self-rating your paddocks to decide on carrying capacity) and insisting on either slavish adherence to a potentially misbegotten annual workplan or an unwieldy global reassessment that renders learnings from past experience elusive at best and at worst totally invalid.
As a guru in a vastly different field I won't comment on the rhetoric but I am critical of the choice of target market: younger farmers like my brother-in-law who just want to drink the Kool-Aid. Any Kool-Aid.
* Or perhaps I should refer to it 'ranching' as these days the business is almost 100% beef cattle
He has access to experienced counsel from my father and his own parents but the combination of relative inexperience, an impulse for independence and a conflicting need for greater certainty is still a potentially deadly one.
Farming* is infamously fickle. My brother-in-law has to deal with a raft of totally uncontrollable variables: the weather, bushfires and other environmental factors; as well as stock, fuel and fertiliser prices, which are in turn influenced by macroeconomic factors such as interest and exchange rates. Conversely, he has a high degree of long-term control over capital investment in water supply, fencing and herd genetics and total short-term control over what cattle he buys and sells and where on the farm they'll graze.
From time to time he makes bad calls but always admits as much. Still, owning up to your mistakes is necessary for small business success but it isn't sufficient.
Recently he's happened on a system called Holistic Farm Management and he spent most of our farm tour expounding its virtues as a way of reducing the manifold uncertainty he's facing. With his permission I put on my 'consultants' hat' and quizzed him about the system.
As I understand it Holistic Farm Management is the idea that protecting the long-term health of your pasture is a higher priority than maximising the short-term value of your herd. The implication is that a farmer takes a whole-of-farm approach to pasture management and regulates stock numbers accordingly. The corollary being that the day-to-day market price for beef is mostly ignored.
The system is espoused by a local guru who alternates between saying that Holistic Farm Management is simply long-standing common sense (my father's position) and that it's an agricultural revolution waiting to happen (what my brother-in-law wants to hear). The spiel also includes a pitch for grasslands to be recognised (and rewarded) as carbon sinks in the global warming debate and a quasi-historical analysis of the carrying capacity of the Serengeti.
My layman's assessment of Holistic Farm Management is that it is a worthwhile philosophy overlaid with a dangerously rigid system based on arbitrary inputs (ie self-rating your paddocks to decide on carrying capacity) and insisting on either slavish adherence to a potentially misbegotten annual workplan or an unwieldy global reassessment that renders learnings from past experience elusive at best and at worst totally invalid.
As a guru in a vastly different field I won't comment on the rhetoric but I am critical of the choice of target market: younger farmers like my brother-in-law who just want to drink the Kool-Aid. Any Kool-Aid.
* Or perhaps I should refer to it 'ranching' as these days the business is almost 100% beef cattle
Monday, 26 October 2009
Home
After my work in Singapore I 'dropped down' to Australia, my logic being that as I was only a further eight hours flying time away I was practically in the neighbourhood. After overnighting in Sydney I took a smaller plane to Dubbo, the regional city with the closest airport to the farm where I grew up.
My father collected me and we drove another 45 minutes to the farm itself. As we came down the dirt road from the farm gate to the house we spotted three adult grey kangaroos. They bounced alongside us for minute or so before veering off across the paddocks, effortlessly clearing fences and lifting my heart as they went.
The scene was familiar but I'm happy to say it wasn't commonplace.
My father collected me and we drove another 45 minutes to the farm itself. As we came down the dirt road from the farm gate to the house we spotted three adult grey kangaroos. They bounced alongside us for minute or so before veering off across the paddocks, effortlessly clearing fences and lifting my heart as they went.
The scene was familiar but I'm happy to say it wasn't commonplace.
Thursday, 22 October 2009
Just rewards
At a dinner party at a waterfront house in Sydney last week I was reminded that it isn't just us Headcount=1 types who live in bubbles.
I sat across from a merchant banker who found it passing strange that I watch little television and listen to even less radio. I get my information about the world from a combination of magazines, the occaisional newspaper and online news sites, podcasts and a selection of blogs. My dining companion had used YouTube precisely once. Here were two relatively succesful white fortysomething men with quite profoundly opposing media consumption patterns.
He grandiously despaired for the future of old style music companies like EMI in the face of that online file sharing that all those crazy kids are into. Eventually we established that technological change was inevitable and that EMI had no more right to exist than Monty Burns' Trans-Atlantic Zeppelin.
His hand-wringing shifted to The Artists. How musicians would get their rightful rewards? File sharing was organised theft and even entities like the Apple Store ripped off The Artists by driving down prices.
Unsurprisingly he'd not come across the idea that a successful musician's income has shifted away from a reliance on record sales in favour of live performance. This too was unfair as The Artist's annual income was now limited to the number of performances that he or she could physically deliver in a year.
Given that much of the working world follows this exact model I couldn't see the problem. You get your bookings, you turn up, do the job and you get paid. If you're good you get booked for more jobs and maybe paid more to do them.
Of course the clue was in the word 'Artist'; he was as sentimental about musicians getting special treatment as he was about EMI. He hadn't heard that Radiohead released their latest album In Rainbows online with a pay-what-you-want pricing plan. Then again he hadn't heard of Radiohead. And he felt it was demeaning that A Major Artist like Bruce Springsteen might still 'need' to play gigs to get his due. The fact that I saw one of two Springsteen shows last year at the Emirates Stadium in North London where over 40,000 fans paid £100 each night didn't alert him to the fact that there's plenty of cash about if enough people think you're good enough.
He saw Artists where I see craftsmen. The good performers I know focus on the craft and leave it to others to grandly declare the work to be Art or not. They're happy to make a decent middle class income doing something they love.
Why should a halfway decent musician or comic make much more than a good plumber or architect or self-employed management consultant? I accept that there are a few game-changing exceptions to this rule but frankly most so-called Artists are journeymen like the rest of us.
If merchant bankers can be overpaid then why not rock stars?
I sat across from a merchant banker who found it passing strange that I watch little television and listen to even less radio. I get my information about the world from a combination of magazines, the occaisional newspaper and online news sites, podcasts and a selection of blogs. My dining companion had used YouTube precisely once. Here were two relatively succesful white fortysomething men with quite profoundly opposing media consumption patterns.
He grandiously despaired for the future of old style music companies like EMI in the face of that online file sharing that all those crazy kids are into. Eventually we established that technological change was inevitable and that EMI had no more right to exist than Monty Burns' Trans-Atlantic Zeppelin.
His hand-wringing shifted to The Artists. How musicians would get their rightful rewards? File sharing was organised theft and even entities like the Apple Store ripped off The Artists by driving down prices.
Unsurprisingly he'd not come across the idea that a successful musician's income has shifted away from a reliance on record sales in favour of live performance. This too was unfair as The Artist's annual income was now limited to the number of performances that he or she could physically deliver in a year.
Given that much of the working world follows this exact model I couldn't see the problem. You get your bookings, you turn up, do the job and you get paid. If you're good you get booked for more jobs and maybe paid more to do them.
Of course the clue was in the word 'Artist'; he was as sentimental about musicians getting special treatment as he was about EMI. He hadn't heard that Radiohead released their latest album In Rainbows online with a pay-what-you-want pricing plan. Then again he hadn't heard of Radiohead. And he felt it was demeaning that A Major Artist like Bruce Springsteen might still 'need' to play gigs to get his due. The fact that I saw one of two Springsteen shows last year at the Emirates Stadium in North London where over 40,000 fans paid £100 each night didn't alert him to the fact that there's plenty of cash about if enough people think you're good enough.
He saw Artists where I see craftsmen. The good performers I know focus on the craft and leave it to others to grandly declare the work to be Art or not. They're happy to make a decent middle class income doing something they love.
Why should a halfway decent musician or comic make much more than a good plumber or architect or self-employed management consultant? I accept that there are a few game-changing exceptions to this rule but frankly most so-called Artists are journeymen like the rest of us.
If merchant bankers can be overpaid then why not rock stars?
Tuesday, 20 October 2009
Comparisons
Last night I ran a workshop with the Sydney cast of 'Scenes'. I only had 90 minutes with everyone there; a ridiculously brief period, especially as 'helping out with the show' was my raison d'être for being in Australia in the first place.
It was their fourth rehearsal. My comparison with the London gang at the same stage is this: -
Given the nature of the overall show I'd rather have London's challenges. Then again, I am always going to be biased towards the cast I chose myself.
It was their fourth rehearsal. My comparison with the London gang at the same stage is this: -
Sydney's weakest performer is stronger than London's weakest performer but London's strongest performer is much, much stronger than the Sydney equivalent
Given the nature of the overall show I'd rather have London's challenges. Then again, I am always going to be biased towards the cast I chose myself.
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
Parallels
Last night I sat in on a rehearsal for the Sydney iteration of Scenes from Communal Living. It was only the third rehearsal but the parallels between their work and my London cast at the same point on the production timeline were uncanny. There was the same early reticence to work with unfamiliar people, the same two-steps-forward-one-step-back development of actors who absolutely nailed the audition but also the same wonderful commitment to break new ground.
The portents for the show itself couldn't be better.
The portents for the show itself couldn't be better.
Tuesday, 13 October 2009
Hunting v. Farming
It intrigues me how a quickly potential job that I first file under 'nice to get' becomes a 'must have'; an off-hand remark from a client that gets blithely entered onto my contacts database as a 'maybe' is transformed into a Great White Whale, the capturing of which my livelihood depends.
This is a consequence of my high-cost low-incidence business model; I price aggressively but don't expect to work every day. I didn't purposely adopt this approach, it just aligns with an industry where demand for my stuff is really driven by R&D pipelines, sales team 'time off road' and so on. A parallel might be made with salespeople in an industry like real estate or high-end high tech where a lot of energy is spent pursuing a smallish number of leads in the expectation of a large commission. NBD is thus a matter of hunting (whales) not cultivating a larger number of lower yielding clients.
Fitting then that I've just landed some work in Norway in February.
This is a consequence of my high-cost low-incidence business model; I price aggressively but don't expect to work every day. I didn't purposely adopt this approach, it just aligns with an industry where demand for my stuff is really driven by R&D pipelines, sales team 'time off road' and so on. A parallel might be made with salespeople in an industry like real estate or high-end high tech where a lot of energy is spent pursuing a smallish number of leads in the expectation of a large commission. NBD is thus a matter of hunting (whales) not cultivating a larger number of lower yielding clients.
Fitting then that I've just landed some work in Norway in February.
Thursday, 8 October 2009
A feeling of belonging
When I checked into the hotel in Singapore on Tuesday night the first person I saw was a Filipino sales manager due to attend this week's training session. I asked how he was doing and he replied, "Pretty well, considering."
Considering?
Ah, yes.
At dinner he described the grim chaos that had swept through Manila on Saturday, September 26. In passing he mentioned that he'd been rescued off the roof of his house ignoring the blithe corollary that everything he owned was lost in the flood.
The real point of the story was that he had spent all of Sunday, Monday and Tuesday driving his 4WD around the city to collect every member of his sales team he could find and depositing them and their families at the company's offices, situated on the upper floors of a relatively unaffected building. He showed us a text message sent by a rep who didn't know if he'd survive the night. He told us how one employee's 15-year-old daughter had been caught at home alone and had to swim a few hundred metres through swirling water to a neighbour's rooftop. He joked about having to console a new team member who felt personally responsible for the destruction of her company car.
He spoke with tearful pride at the way the boss had ordered him to do anything and unquestioningly pay anything until everyone employed by the company was accounted for and how food, water, blankets and medical care were waiting at the offices for each influx of refugees.
It wasn't work, he said, it was tribal.
Considering?
Ah, yes.
At dinner he described the grim chaos that had swept through Manila on Saturday, September 26. In passing he mentioned that he'd been rescued off the roof of his house ignoring the blithe corollary that everything he owned was lost in the flood.
The real point of the story was that he had spent all of Sunday, Monday and Tuesday driving his 4WD around the city to collect every member of his sales team he could find and depositing them and their families at the company's offices, situated on the upper floors of a relatively unaffected building. He showed us a text message sent by a rep who didn't know if he'd survive the night. He told us how one employee's 15-year-old daughter had been caught at home alone and had to swim a few hundred metres through swirling water to a neighbour's rooftop. He joked about having to console a new team member who felt personally responsible for the destruction of her company car.
He spoke with tearful pride at the way the boss had ordered him to do anything and unquestioningly pay anything until everyone employed by the company was accounted for and how food, water, blankets and medical care were waiting at the offices for each influx of refugees.
It wasn't work, he said, it was tribal.
Tuesday, 6 October 2009
Friday, 2 October 2009
The why before the how
Next Monday I'm in Switzerland pitching on a whole-of-region sales training project for a very successful small pharma company. I've done the research and crunched the numbers and written the next-to-last draft of the pitch document yet a single question nags me: -
Yesterday I found an article in the latest edition of Monocle (a magazine that keeps surprising me) on European military conscription. Contrary to the 'tough love' blather of the right-wing commentariat, no sane person now sees conscription as a good thing. It is an expensive and dangerous way to staff your military and soldiers have better things to do than play some sort of stern uncle role for a generation of lost youth. One of the few European countries with a coherent justification for universal conscription is in fact Switzerland where the army acts as a transcendent and therefore unifying experience for men who might otherwise identify themselves as 'Swiss-German', 'Swiss-French' or 'Swiss-Italian' instead of simply 'Swiss'.
Maybe this is what's going on with my client.
Although they wouldn't admit it, or possibly even be able to voice it as such, perhaps the key motivator is less about upskilling the sales team and more about creating a transcendent / unifying experience. I could be overthinking things as usual but unless I resolve this in my own mind before Monday the trip is already wasted.
Why do they want the project?They're already successful and in no small part this has been driven by a strong if informal HR policy of recruiting experienced salespeople. I could even argue that by taking a successful team off the road they're losing money.
Yesterday I found an article in the latest edition of Monocle (a magazine that keeps surprising me) on European military conscription. Contrary to the 'tough love' blather of the right-wing commentariat, no sane person now sees conscription as a good thing. It is an expensive and dangerous way to staff your military and soldiers have better things to do than play some sort of stern uncle role for a generation of lost youth. One of the few European countries with a coherent justification for universal conscription is in fact Switzerland where the army acts as a transcendent and therefore unifying experience for men who might otherwise identify themselves as 'Swiss-German', 'Swiss-French' or 'Swiss-Italian' instead of simply 'Swiss'.
Maybe this is what's going on with my client.
Although they wouldn't admit it, or possibly even be able to voice it as such, perhaps the key motivator is less about upskilling the sales team and more about creating a transcendent / unifying experience. I could be overthinking things as usual but unless I resolve this in my own mind before Monday the trip is already wasted.
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