This is the second of a four-part series running through July about the ways that artists make a living from their work.
While Americans by the millions tune into television reality shows such as "Dancing With the Stars," northern
Nevada dance companies struggle to hit the sweet spot that will entice patrons to turn out for performances.
They've tried throwing money at marketing. Teaming with pop culture scores. Corrob-orating with belly dancers. They've even tried romance.
But still, audiences stay away in droves. The reason?
"People are bombarded by entertainment," says Rosine Bena, artistic director at Sierra Nevada Ballet.
Says Deborah Smith, executive director of Wing & A Prayer Dance Company, "Americans are sports- and athletic-oriented. But even that is subsidized."
The key to audience draw, says Bena, is found in the reason people go to the opera:
To be seen.
"Artown has built a cache around it," she adds. That's why 800 people turned out at Wingfield Park for the July 6 "Dancing in the Park" performance.
But the bulk of the year it's passion not profit that drives dance directors to produce shows.
Sierra Nevada Ballet gleans a third of its funding from ticket sales, but turns to foundation grants for a majority of funding.
Wing & A Prayer Dance Company draws a tenth of its funding from ticket sales and relies primarily on grants to pay the bills.
Dancers get paid; directors sometimes do not.
Wing & A Prayer was started 1991 by Smith and Sara Bogard, who provides creative direction. Each holds a master's degree in dance.
The challenge, says Smith, is running a company on a shoestring.
Smith pays herself $300 a month but only sometimes. Bena says she's paid "When we can afford it, because I started the company. Just like any boss."
One secret to survival: People who won't pay to watch professionals dance will pay dancers to teach their progeny.
Students pay Wing & A Prayer $750 a year to cover costumes and instruction, with scholarships available for those who can't afford the tab. The troupe's dance instructors earn $35 an hour, which they keep.
But grants remain the financial backbone of dance performance groups.
Among the providers of grant support, Bena says, are the Nevada Arts Council and the E.L. Cord Foundation.
Wing & A Prayer credits Nevada Arts Council for about half of its funding, but the sluggish economy threatens the cash donations it's received from state and local governments.
Economic woes also curtailed sales of ads in the program for the group's spring concert.
Finances remain the ongoing challenge at Sierra Nevada Ballet as well.
Funding cuts meant the troupe recently saw its costume budget decimated from $10,000 to $1,000 but costumers locally and from the Bay Area pitched in to cover the shortfall. And choreographic scores
also are donated.
The ballet has tried all manner of marketing to boost public attendance.
"We've tried hiring PR firms; radio, newspaper we have yet to find something that works," says Bena. It spent $40,000 on marketing to promote a spring concert, "It's Romantic." And still, the turnout was disappointing.
The troupe has taken some big steps outside the box to draw audiences.
The ballet danced a tribute to Roy Orbison. It collaborated with Asha Belly Dancers to present "Arabian Nights" and created a drum, dance and digeridoo festival. On Aug. 29 it presents "Best of Broadway" at Sand Harbor. And for Halloween, "Frights on Foot."
Funding frights aside, Sierra Nevada Ballet looks forward to developing a full season this year, including an autumn performance.
A Wing & A Prayer, meanwhile, is recruiting with auditions scheduled early next month. "We've been around for a while," says Smith. "We seem able to weather the ups and downs."
While dance companies struggle, dance schools are doing just fine.
Mikel Feilen, who owns Never Enough Ballroom on South Virginia Street, saw his business boom as television dance shows popularized ballroom steps.
The biggest impact was among men, says Feilen. "Men coming to dance increased 100 percent. It got rid of the homophobic pressure put on men in dance."
The studio employs 10 instructors who teach waltz, foxtrot, tango, rumba, cha-cha, swing and more.
The average customer takes half a dozen lessons but some take classes for as long as 20 years. For them, it's a hobby, says Feilen, "You get into it and just keep doing it."
Most customers buy around $2,000 worth of lessons a year, but the range is anywhere from $500 to $15,000 a year. Dancers range in age from 13 to 80, with the mid-40s a popular point. They fill the studio's four ballrooms, 7,500-square-feet of highly polished floor space.
The studio offers dance socials each Friday and Saturday night, and the socials are a key business component. Otherwise, says Feilen, "It's like teaching people to play tennis but never having a tennis court to play."
Why do people do it?
Some look to improve their health and lose weight through dance. Others, particularly in the 50-and-older set, appreciate the opportunity to meet people. And some look at dance as a sport and want to compete,
Feilen says.
With 200 students, business is good at Never Enough Ballroom, he says. But the challenge in running the business is consistency in income. Lessons need to be spaced out over the year to avoid creating roller coaster sales.
"Management is creating events and knowing how to run a school," he says. "The hardest thing to do is to plan a year correctly."
Feilen sees a bright future for dance schools, and he notes dance remained popular anytime the economy tanked.
"Entertainment went up because in tough times people need escape," he says. "We need to express ourselves and be with other human beings."
