Every month or so, I try to find out about forthcoming shows in Dublin, so I scan the websites of the big receiving houses. When I do so, I always find myself typing out a URL that is effectively obsolete – www.grandcanaltheatre.ie/ That always redirects me on to another page, which gives me that theatre’s new name.
Perhaps it’s petty, but I just can’t bring myself to type in the words “Bord Gais Energy Theatre”. Like many people, I was disappointed by the theatre’s decision to dispense of a name that seemed elegant, atmospheric and apt – and to sell the naming rights to a utility company.
Leaving aside other considerations, the name seems ugly to me, and I always find myself thinking of Gwendolen in Importance of Being Earnest: “there is very little music in the name, if any at all, indeed. It does not thrill. It produces absolutely no vibrations”.
Well, “Bord Gais Energy Theatre” produces no vibrations, at least in me. Who wants to go to a theatre with homonyms of the words “bored” and “gash” in the title? Likewise I find the inclusion of the word “energy” in the title troubling, as if I am expected to arrive at the theatre really keyed up for a show. And shortening it to “b-get” doesn’t work: it always reminds me of those long lines of names in the Old Testament of men who begat other men.
In fairness though, I am one of those people who still talks about going to the Point Depot or Landsdowne Road, so I would probably have been hostile to whatever name the theatre ended up having to call itself.
Of course I know that theatres have to attract funding in order to stay open, and that the selling of naming rights is widespread internationally. But what bothers me about this kind of thing is that it turns us all into involuntary advertisers.
I knew, for example, that eircom and Ulster Bank were title sponsors of the Dublin Theatre Festival – but I was never obliged to refer to those companies when booking tickets or arranging to meet friends for the shows. I saw the logos on posters, noticed the link, and in general had a higher opinion of the companies for their sponsorship. So all good there.
But the selling of naming rights inserts brand names into our landscapes. So when I tell someone I was at a football match, I have to mention Aviva – and when I go to a gig, I have no option but to mention O2. This takes my private utterances and turns them into free advertising for companies that I may (or may not) like.
To be fair, I have nothing against any of those companies. Well – with the possible exception of Aviva, who were responsible for the single most illiterate ad I’ve seen in a long time, which was posted to Galway’s buses during the summer.
But like all good consumers, I value freedom of choice – why should we be forced to use a company’s name if we don’t wish to do so?
Name branding also separates a building from its local environment, and thus from its history. When we see something at the Point Depot, we understand that building’s link with Dublin’s docks – we understand that it was once something else, that it has a past, and an interesting one too. But I often find nowadays that when people tell me they saw a show in “the O2” I’m not sure which one they mean – the Dublin or London one, or perhaps another someplace else? This flattening of local difference and distinction has significant consequences.
People I know in the theatre will sometimes say that this kind of thing isn’t a big deal. There’s so little funding around at the moment, they point out: when we have a lovely building like the Grand Canal, isn’t the most important thing that it stays open?
Perhaps so, but while I support title-sponsorship, I still dislike the selling of naming rights in this way…
I have heard people say similar things about another recent marketing project, called the Arthur Guinness Projects. Anyone with an Irish email address will have heard of this recently. The idea was that arts organsations (and other groups) would compete for “votes”, and that the groups with the most votes would in turn go into a competition (adjudicated by relevant experts) for a modest amount of funding – which, in the case of Irish theatre, may result in the production of some plays which might otherwise not have happened so soon.
Well, I look forward to seeing the work that is produced as a result of this but again, I found this project troubling.
Like many people, I got dozens of emails and twitter messages, often daily, from practitioners looking for votes. Every one of those emails was an ad for Guinness. Every retweet was an ad for Guinness. Every time someone logged on to view a company’s profile, they were also viewing ads for Guinness.
In the end, Guinness got a massive amount of advertising, and a proportionately tiny number of theatre practitioners will be able to make work. I’m not convinced that this was a good deal. Only 10% of the submitted entries make it through to a stage where they are judged by a panel of experts and I cannot tell from reading the website how many projects will actually be funded in the end. Ultimately roughly 290 arts projects will get no funding at all. That’s a lot of people who’ve spent their time letting us all know that Guinness cares about creativity and community etc.
I worry slightly about such campaigns, which, while apparently well intentioned, may end up being inadvertently exploitative of the fact that some people really desperately need money in order to make art.
It’s also important to say something that will be obvious but which bears emphasising: alcohol companies advertise not just to convince us to buy a particular brand if we’re out in the pub: they are also trying to shape our attitudes towards alcohol in general. It’s worth thinking about the positioning of this drinks multinational as a funder of work that will be young, edgy and experimental (the kind of work that won’t otherwise get funded).
There’s a performance going on here by the company itself, and it seems to me that there’s an attempt to position themselves as benign, trendy, responsive to ordinary life, authentic, and so on. The shift to using the full name – the Arthur Guinness Projects – even gives us a personality to identify with (isn’t there something kindly and avuncular about the way they use the name Arthur?)
Much of this is surely an attempt to build brand loyalty. But some of it is shaping attitudes. So the next time we have a public debate about alcohol and its impact on our society and indeed on our people and their families, our response to that debate will be shaped to some small extent by these campaigns, and by other events such as Arthur’s Day.
It was for similar reasons, after all, that tobacco companies used to sponsor art galleries.
I don’t think any of the companies I’ve mentioned in this post is acting out of cynicism or opportunism or anything else – any more than anyone does when they advertise. Likewise I am certain that the people doing the assessing of all of these projects are doing so out of a firm desire to give up their time to help new work get off the ground. And overall I am quite sure that the decision to engage in sponsorship was made out of some enthusiasm for the arts (or sport, in the case of the Aviva).
And again people I know who work in the arts have said that none of the concerns above really matter, that people are smart enough to make up their own minds, and that if work is being made – what’s the problem?
But we must also acknowledge that those companies are trying to buy something that we as theatre-goers have: our awareness, our respect, our loyalty. That is quite literally a valuable commodity, and it belongs to us.
And perhaps it’s easy for me to say this: I’m not trying to keep a theatre running, and I know very well how difficult and stressful it is for hundreds of individuals and companies in Ireland.
But for my own part – I will continue going to the Bord Gais Energy Theatre. But I’m going to keep calling it the Grand Canal.