This morning we performed the annual ceremony of the music society envelope stuffing. The brochure for the upcoming season, plus a newsletter, plus a couple of fliers on behalf of other local arts organisations on good enough terms with the music society committee to hitch a ride in our mailing, all went into envelopes, which were duly equipped with address labels and stamps. Anybody who bought a season ticket last time round was deemed a member of the society, and in addition got a notice of the AGM with the agenda and an annual summary of activities on the back.
The whole exercise was a marvellous mixture of the slick and the resolutely home made. The brochure was almost a disaster, because after it had gone to the printers, indeed as the Chairman was on the point of approving the final draft and giving the go-ahead to print, word came from the academic who was booked to give our annual lecture that the date of a conference in Spain where he was due to speak had been changed, and he wouldn't be back in time to talk to us. Many apologies but he could suggest some alternative speakers. Hold the front page. Could he manage the previous week instead, and if so would the hall at the High School we had booked be free, and would anybody be there at the school during the school holidays to deal with our change of date?
The newsletter was a last minute production because the Chairman sent the first draft around the committee for comment, and one member responded to her lament that it might be boring by rewriting it. She was so pleased that he had effectively volunteered to write next year's that we went with his version. Luckily we have an understanding printer who doesn't mind rush jobs. The annual summary was even more of rush job because the Chairman had forgotten until this morning that under our charitable status we were supposed to produce one, so had to write something quickly before the envelope stuffing brigade arrived at ten. When I first bought a season ticket I hadn't grasped that it qualified me as a member. I thought it was just a cheap way of obtaining several concert tickets. I'm not sure the majority of our audience consider themselves members, but some do, and stay loyally for the AGM and wine and cheese afterwards, while the verger hovers over his vestry carpet like an avenging angel in case anybody should drop cheese on it.
We were systematic about making up little packs with our material on the outside of the bundle and the guest literature tucked inside, so that it would be obvious on opening the envelope that it was from the music society. Pick up a film festival leaflet, pick up a music festival leaflet (just the one, they tended to stick together), tuck inside a newsletter, slip the whole lot inside one of our brochures. I was quite fast by the end, but was glad I was just doing it for the morning, and not on piecework and paid by the thousand.
Things really got interesting with the winnowing of the address labels. Age, infirmity, actual death, marital catastrophe or moving to the next county, there are all sorts of reasons why it might be insensitive to send people a music society mailing, or at least the waste of a stamp. Lives were briskly dissected, so and so had gone into a home and could scarcely get about, she might be upset to get the brochure, on the other hand she was not gaga, could somebody perhaps be found to give her a lift? Had anybody ever seen this person at any of our concerts, and did we really expect them to drive over all the way from Great Totham? This couple were young and he worked abroad a lot, unlikely they'd attend, they never had in the past apart from one lecture.
Within two and a half hours we had three sacks of envelopes ready to go to the post office, and two piles of unstamped envelopes to be delivered by hand to supporters in the village, excluding those with really long drives to walk up. Too much trouble, and you feel like an intruder marching up to their front door, they get a stamp to save the hassle. It was quite an efficient operation in the end, though next year we must put a slip in with the letters to everyone who never seems to buy a ticket, asking them to confirm they would still be on the mailing list. At least we didn't do what we did a couple of years ago, and seal up a whole pile of envelopes before realising there was something else to go in them.
The music society has a website, and we have email addresses for most of the names on our list, but even in the internet age I think it's worth sending out a brochure. An email has generally fallen off the bottom of one's screen before the day is out, displaced by the sheer volume of subsequent emails. A nice little leaflet with encouraging photos of some of the musicians might hang around in people's kitchens for weeks, reminding them they'd like to buy a ticket.
No comments:
Post a Comment