University of Virginia Library

PK And The Concert Game: Striking Out Or Batting 1000?

By BILL BARDENWERPER

It was Sunday night, almost 7:30. Except for some scratchy
piped-in music and a few muffled voices, University Hall was
relatively quiet. A rock concert was supposed to begin in another
30 minutes, but there were still only about 80 of us who had
shown up. At most concerts by this time frisbees were usually
flying, people were shouting, screeching and generally jockeying
for good seats.

But on this particular night people were lining up at the ticket
gates as though they had come to see Guy Lombardo or the
McGuire Sisters. There were too many ushers, too many
ticket-takers and too many seats; too much of everything except
people.

Backstage the drummer from Mark Almond asked, "What's
the problem? Midterms?" "Yeah, that's it," PK German
President Dave Howerton replied, since he did not know the real
reason himself. "Too bad we couldn't have this concert in the
afternoon so people could drop in between tests," the drummer
commented in return. And then, as if to get his mind off this
discouraging situation, he added, "What's this school noted for,
by the way?"

Children from the Rehabilitation Center were now being
wheeled in free of charge. This added slightly to the size of the
small crowd, but not to the concert's revenue.

"We're going to lose about $3500 on this thing," concert
chairman Bert Ellis admitted without hesitation. "But then we
only paid $5500 on the whole package. In any case, we saved a
little money by moving up the stage and setting up less chairs.
And then we're also not throwing any bubble gum out into the
audience, so we save another $4.00 there."

Eventually 750 paid customers did appear – hardly enough,
though, to prompt an encore which the enthusiastic audience
earnestly desired. Both Tranquility and Mark-Almond gave fine
performances, yet something had oddly enough gone wrong with
the whole show.

CD/Larry Mann

Francis:

Money Is The Major Problem

From those people who opted to stay home that Sunday night
came the response that if PK gave better concerts and had decent
groups, people would come. Others complained that the PK
people are either lazy, have poor contacts, don't know what a
really good group is, or are simply being taken for suckers.

"People complain like this all the time," says Newcomb Hall
Director John A. Herring. "For Taj Mahal, they all went crazy
like they do all the time. Then later they say the concert was
lousy. It's really frustrating." (Mr. Herring is the University's
representative in contract negotiations.)

The most frequent complaint is that the groups which the
University has contracted this year – Chicago, Chuck Berry,
James Taylor, The Fifth Dimension and Stephen Stills – are all
'has-beens.' "Check Billboard Magazine," asserts PK German's
outgoing acting president, Charlie Francis. "Then you'll see
whether or not they're has-beens. Anyway, that's a private opinion.
Ticket sales says they're not, and they are selling a lot of
albums."

Another complaint and probably the most frustrating is the
criticism of PK as an ineffective organization for booking concerts–
that every cancellation is strictly their own fault and that they are
unable to book the really 'big-name' artists.

"Roberta Flack canceled on us; Carole King has had a baby;
Eric Clapton is in Europe and not traveling; and Taj Mahal who
we had earlier this year has not even happened yet," claims Mr.
Francis, in defense of PK's efforts to secure the 'big-names.'

"At this last concert," he continues, "Stephen Stills was
originally to have performed, but he also canceled. We still had
the Hall, though. So we figured that we might as well go ahead
with a concert anyway."

"Then Grin and Malo canceled on us. Malo quit the agency
and Grin said they'd be in Wisconsin or Michigan the night before
and would have trouble making the trip in one day. So we got
Tranquility instead. Now at that concert we lost $3500, and a lot
of people will say we lost money because it was a lousy concert.
But as you can see there are many things which we really just
can't help."

Names like Elton John, Carly Simon, Derek and the
Dominoes, J. Geils Band, Moody Blues, and Don McLean are "so
obvious, so painfully obvious," laments Mr. Francis, "If their
tours would only jive with our open dates they'd plan to come
here."

PK plans about seven or eight concerts a year, five of which
fall on 'big weekends'. Throughout the year PK remains
continually in touch with about ten or 12 booking agents in New
York City who do nearly all the concert booking in the country.

"When we first start planning our concerts," says Mr. Francis,
"we'll usually just call an agent up and ask him who's traveling.
Sometimes we'll give him a particular date, and other times we
just ask for a particular group. In any case, though, it's not as
though you can just call them up on the phone and say, 'I want
so and so.' It's necessary to call the agent to see who he's got. If
we don't like it we call another one."

Chuck Walton, former promoter for Circle K concerts and
presently the manager of Paramount Theater, criticizes this fact
that PK deals almost exclusively through the New York based
agencies. "There's no reason not to try some of the smaller agents
across the river in New Jersey," he says "One agent may want
$12,000 and another $15,000 for the same group. They tell the
various agencies the amount they desire thus the agent may
simply pocket the amount over the group's asking price"

"We're not fools," replies Mr. Francis "We know what the
group's go for. Still, a $1,000 rip-off is insignificant when you're
dealing with these kind of figures. We have simply found that
working through established firms is better in the long run," he
concludes. "When you deal with the guys in New York you are
dealing with the guys at the source Also we reduce middlemen
when we stay away from Virginia Beach, Washington D.C and
places like that."

But last year PK dealt extensively with a middleman through
College Entertainment Associates. This New York-based agency
handles concert arrangements with agents for the purchaser at a
price of $1000 for a sell-out crowd.

Mr. Walton claims that CEA is just a scouting group which he
seems to feel might be easily bought off. "For a pay-off of a few
bucks," he says, "this scout or whatever he is can try to push a
dead group on you.

"We're using him only in special cases now," says Mr. Francis,
"like for Taylor because he had a special arrangement with them.
He bought a block of weekends and thus can deliver the goods. So
it's simply that sometimes like this they can deliver the goods
when we can't. But in general we have rejected it because it isn't
our thing."

Once PK finds an agent with a group they like they begin
talking contracts. This Mr. Walton believes, is where the PK
bureaucracy takes over and foils most of the potentially good
concerts.

Mr. Francis denies this, however, and contends that "it's a
relatively simple process. For Stephen Stills and James Taylor,"
he adds, "we had the telegrams off the same day." He insists that
in most situations he can be on the phone and within 30 minutes
check with Mr. Herring and have the telegram on the way.

In these initial conversations with the agent the big issues are
money. Mr. Francis insists that PK can get anyone they want for
$5 a ticket if they are available. Yet the fact remains, says Mr.
Herring, that "if we can't get some bigger names it's because they
go to a house that can guarantee them some unreal income."

Two years ago in July, PK offered The Who $49,000 to play at
University Hall. Instead, William and Mary got them for $51,000.
Yet they still canceled at the last moment to go someplace else
for more money.

"It's a jungle," insists Mr. Herring. "We can't take time to find
out if they're acting someplace else. So I really can't say. But
then I don't know of many agents who are particularly reputable.
Yet we have to work with them anyway."

After the telegram is sent outlining the agreement between the
agent and PK, contracts are exchanged with sometimes up to 20
page riders attached. These riders specify everything from the
kind of lighting equipment all the way down to the particular
kind of beer the group may want to be waiting chilled inside their
dressing rooms.

The riders are of course subject to negotiation which is then
carried on by phone. Some are relatively easy to agree upon such
as Stephen Stills' demand for a Steinway piano. The University
owns a Yamaha but managed without too much trouble to rent
the Steinway requested.

In any case the agent sends the purchaser a standardized rider
whether they're playing in Madison Square Garden or University
Hall. "It's all flexible," says Mr. Francis. "If they demand certain
lights and we only have one kind or say they want union people
and we use Drama Department people, these type of things are all
negotiable."

Not everything has been this easy, though. Alice Cooper, for
example, insisted on having limousines waiting for them at the
airport. "This limo thing came up only a few days before the
concert," said Mr. Francis, and their manager kept calling about it
until we got them. Instead of risking the loss of the show we went
along with it, even though it ended up costing a couple hundred
dollars more in hidden costs."

"We called up all the funeral parlors in town, but we had no
luck. So we finally had to go to a rental firm in Richmond."

Then there was the time Janis Joplin refused to walk out of
her dressing room without a quart of Southern Comfort.

Every contract, of course, has an "Act of God" clause which
in essence permits the performer to cancel if and when and for any
reason he might desire. When Jesus Christ Superstar was
contracted, they promised to bring their own "supertroupers"
(production crew). But eventually PK had to hire out their own
lighting and stage crews.

"Now if we did something like that," says Mr. Herring, "they
can say we broke the contract. But if they do, we can't do
anything."

Last year, the Allman Brothers canceled at the last moment
because one of the brothers supposedly had a bad wisdom tooth.
A couple of days later, though, PK found out that they had really
been busted.

Chuck Berry tried to use the same "Act of God" clause this
fall. Elephant's Memory Band was already on stage and over
7,000 people were waiting when Chuck Berry called from
Gainsville outside of Washington to say that he was not driving
any further. A bit of coaxing, pleading and threatening by Mr.
Herring convinced him to come.

Fortunately, Elephant's Memory consented to put on an
extra-long show. About half way through their performance,
Chuck Berry called again to say that he was in Ruckersville but
did not have a guitar. Thus, the PK people had to negotiate with
Elephant's Memory to borrow
one of their guitars.

PK is never home free,
though, until the manager gives
his O.K. and the star walks on
stage. He may very well stop
the show if there is any small
thing which might perturb him,
like: Why are so many people
getting in free through the
back door?

Or he may do as the
manager for Jesus Christ
Superstar did in refusing to
accept his $20,000 by check.
Instead, he demanded it in cash
until realizing he was presented
with a "take it or leave it"
proposition.

According to Dave
Howerton, putting on a
concert means "being there
from 11:30 a.m. until midnight
when the concert is over....
calling janitors, stage crew, etc.
and just bringing everybody
together. We must make sure
the group knows where they
are going to stay, that there are
only so many flights into
Charlottesville, that they catch the correct one and things like this."

"It's a minor miracle that it all comes off," he adds. "And
when it happens you can't believe it really did. If anything
happens with dope or whatever, we're in the Dean's office the
first thing the next day. So many things can go wrong. And it's
inconceivable to list them all."

There are many problems with staging a concert, most of
which any promoter anywhere could never ignore–disreputable
agents, unavoidable escape clauses in contract agreements, high
ticket prices, outrageous buying prices, and on and on. But the
University also has a few of its own problems–inadequate

facilities, a "big weekend" tradition, and a lack of adequate
transportation facilities, to and from Charlottesville.

The result–bad concerts? Not really. Worse concerts than
elsewhere? Not really. So far this year the University has had
John Denver, Chicago, Chuck Berry, Taj Mahal, Mark Almond
and has scheduled the Fifth Dimension, James Taylor and
Stephen Stills.

Virginia Tech has had Canned Heat, John Mayall, Issac Hayes,
Chris Cristoferson and has scheduled Loggins and Messina.
William and Mary has not done much better, with Rick Nelson (a
'has-been') Deep Purple (a 'has-been') , the James Gang, Alice
Cooper, Chicago and James Taylor – all who have or are
scheduled to perform at the University.

Traffic is the other group they have had, and PK had the
option on them earlier this year. Unfortunately their agent called
just four days before the Taj Mahal Concert, so it was impossible
to arrange. "We would have worked it out could we have," says
Mr. Howerton.

Are the gripes legitimate,
then? Yes, to an extent. There
are groups which the
University has not been able to
get, and the reason is money.

As for the University, a
6500-seat concert hall   does
does not promise much in the
way of revenue without
resorting to higher ticket
prices. Most contracts have a
clause which does not permit
viewers either alongside or
behind stage. Only once has a
concert at U-Hall had more
than 6500 persons in
attendance, and that was the
Beach Boys concert last year in
which people snuck through air
conditioning vents through
windows, hid in lockers and
did everything imaginable to

get inside.

At $3.50 and even $5.00 a ticket that leaves the performer
with around $25,000 – far less than the amount desired by many
of the bigger name performers.

"Charge $7.00 a ticket," says Mr. Francis, "and you're getting
close to a group like The Who." The question remains: are
students willing to pay $7-$8, maybe even more, per ticket?

Mel Brandt, vice chairman for Virginia Tech's concert
committee feels that $3.50 is about as high as they will ever go on
ticket prices. "For Jethro Tull last year, we went up to $5.00,"
he says, "and the same people who said they would pay that for a
good concert complained at the $5.00 price."

Mr. Herring agrees with Mr. Brandt's appraisal and believes
what is needed is a specific allocation from the activities fund
earmarked expressly for concerts. "Unless I'm mistaken," says
Mr. Herring, "we're the only state university of this size which
doesn't have a concert fund to guarantee four or five large
concerts per year.

"We're working on it though," he adds. "The only problem
then is that if we tax the students for it we have the problem of
not enough seats for everyone."

Then there is this University's unique problem with 'big
weekends.' These dates are set a year in advance while PK often
doesn't know until a few days before whether or not a group can
come. "Being non-coed for years, we set up this pattern of 'Big
Weekends'," says Mr. Francis, "and we really hate to phase them
out now. Nevertheless, having to work with only a few open dates
does present a difficult problem."

So out of all this mess, all these problems, PK gets blamed.
"You've got a terribly political situation there," says Mr. Walton,
"and there will be as long as PK and the Union are running things.
It's a full-time job for somebody. The ideal situation would be a
non-political one. And until the University looks at entertainment

CD/Larry Mann

Mark-Almond:

Hard To Get Up For 750 People