POLITICS MONEY AND MUSIC

IT WON’T be easy. That is the virtually unanimous appraisal of political prospects for the Dallas Symphony Orchestra (DSO) when it presents its plan for a new concert hall to Dallas voters in a bond election this summer.

It has already been a long road for the symphony. On November 6, 1979, DSO supporters joined Majestic Theater and Dallas Museum of Fine Arts campaigners and other local luminaries to celebrate passage of a seven-point bond package.

This victory was a stunning turnaround from the previous year, when a $45 million “arts package” bond proposal was rejected by a 54-46 percent margin. In its second attempt, the symphony won more than 55 percent of the vote.

The DSO celebration was a bit more restrained than that of the other victors. The next step for the art museum, for example, was to wrap-up land acquisition and begin construction. But the symphony had been a latecomer to the 1979 campaign, barely winning City Council approval to be on the ballot for a mere $2.25 million to purchase land. (In contrast, the museum had won $24.9 million for land and construction.) The symphony knew it would have to go through the bond wringer again to secure a lot more money.

In 1979, the late-starting symphony worked closely with the long-planned museum campaign. The DMFA spent approximately $200,000 on its aggressive, highly visible effort. Symphony and museum forces worked well together. But this time, the symphony is on its own.

Political observers are cautious when asked to predict the symphony’s chances in 1982. This is a different political environment from three years ago. Voters are less trusting of City Hall, particularly on matters involving money. Building a concert hall might require another tax increase. With the nation’s economy so sluggish, Dallas taxpayers will be hesitant about approving multimillion-dollar capital improvements they consider to be less than essential.

Symphony political planners are hoping to minimize opposition by advocating a relatively small overall bond program. They hope the City Council will not present the voters with an extravagant “wish list” that carries with it the threat of more than a minimal tax hike. Building a bond ballot is tricky business. Strategists want items that will stimulate positive voter response from throughout the city and not encourage turnout by those who come to the polls expressly to vote “No.”

The players in this year’s bond election game are a mix of veterans and newcomers. Directing the symphony’s effort is Philip Montgomery III, whose father, Dr. Philip Montgomery, is coordinator of the downtown arts district.

The younger Montgomery was a volunteer in the symphony’s 1979 campaign. A 28-year-old real estate developer, he has impressed veterans with his quick grasp of campaign organization and his ability to maintain relative peace within the symphony’s enthusiastic but often politically naive constituency.

Montgomery is learning about the perils that plague all politicians. He worries that his campaign might “get mired in our own bureaucratic structure” and foresees trouble in “keeping people’s attention during the summer.” The Dallas heat can kill voter turnout.

Professional muscle in the campaign will come from the consulting firm of Weekley, Amps and Gray. This firm, in many ways, is a child of the 1979 campaign. Judy Bonner Amps, a longtime consultant for Democratic candidates, and Enid Gray, a seasoned Republican Party worker, were brought together for the first time by the museum, which found their combined skills and contacts invaluable. The overall bond campaign was chaired by Jack Evans, not yet mayor, and John Weekley worked for him. Since this initial joint-venture, the firm has become the top political operation in Dallas, masterminding Parkland Hospital’s bond campaign, Evans’ race for mayor, Steve Bartlett’s congressional campaign and a variety of other political and public relations ventures.

Enid Gray notes one important difference between the 1979 and 1982 elections: This year’s bond package will carry a much-larger number of expensive projects than the 1979 ballot. That means, says Gray, “there will be a larger base of interested voters.” In other words, the political courtship conducted by the symphony must be directed at a broad spectrum of local voters and interest groups.

Handling advertising for the symphony is one of Dallas’ hottest agencies, The Richards Group. A perennial award-winner for its work with clients such as Whataburger and Mercantile Bank, the Richards staff brings to the campaign a reputation for efficiency and creativity. If The Richards Group has a weakness, it is relative inexperience in politics.

It appears that the agency is adjusting quickly to the variations in marketing research and audience targeting that a political race requires. Its initial effort -a nonpolitical public service television spot for the symphony -is highly regarded by DSO campaign leaders.

Stan Richards says he wants an ad campaign that is “not selling hype, but is informative. You don’t sell a concert hall the way you sell a box of cereal.” His philosophy about the campaign is, “the city would be dead musically without the symphony, and the symphony cannot flourish without a hall.”

Supplementing the work of these principals will be such DSO backers as Tom Unis, an ageless political veteran who can give Phil Montgomery links to the old-line Dallas establishment.

Montgomery’s vice chairman is Mandy Dealey, who ran the superbly organized symphony volunteer corps in 1979. For a nonprofessional, Dealey has a remarkable understanding of the intricacies of campaign organization and volunteer management.

Campaign strategy hinges on grassroots organizing tactics married to the principal issues of the arts district, local economic benefits and civic pride.

Crucial to Phil Montgomery’s strategy is the development of the arts district plan. “If arts district planning continues to go well,” says Montgomery, “we can run this as a referendum on the arts district.” This is a point he wants to hammer home. “Some people,” he says, “don’t realize that the future of the arts district depends on this election.”

Museum supporters had worked hard in 1979 to dispel the myth that arts institutions are economic burdens on the city budget. They presented an economic impact study of the “Pompeii A.D. 79” exhibition, which demonstrated the positive economic effects of a museum that is able to attract major traveling shows and the tens of thousands of visitors who pump money into the local economy. The symphony has released a similar report that supports its claim that the new downtown hall will generate jobs and revenues for the city.

Although a bit vague in its standards of measurement, the report says of the new concert hall, “the total impact from operations is $21,285,000 annually.”

The report also tries to mollify voters who are angered by anything they perceive as “pulling the plug on Fair Park,” by assuring them that moving the symphony downtown will enable the Music Hall to be fully scheduled with shows that will bring up to $1 million in additional ticket and rental revenues.

As is customary in Dallas bond elections, symphony campaigners expect civic pride to generate the bulk of their voter support. Their campaign slogan, “A Great Concert Hall for a Great City,” echoes the DMFA’s “A Great City Deserves a Great Art Museum.” These phrases are not the products of smoke-filled-rooms. They were created through sophisticated market research that tested a number of ideas on potential voters.

The research indicates that Dallas voters want quality arts institutions, not only for themselves and their children, but also to prove that Dallas is not a hick town when it comes to culture.

Leonard Bernstein reportedly was so disappointed by Dallas’ concert facilities during his May appearance with the Israel Philharmonic that he is requesting that Dallas be dropped from his upcoming tour with the Vienna Philharmonic. Dallas does not like to be bypassed by anything – art exhibitions, national political conventions or orchestras.

Appeals to civic pride are traditional bond-election politics. The 1978 defeat proved, however, that these appeals in themselves will no longer win elections. The arts organizations replaced their faith in civic boosterism with faith in comprehensive, well-financed political organization. This will have to be the tactical plan for the concert hall.

Targeting is the key -knowing where the voters are who will go to the polls for a bond election and who the voters are who most likely will support the concert hall proposition. In 1979, the DMFA targeted fewer than half of the city’s precincts for get-out-the-vote efforts, but it carried 96 percent of these precincts. The DMFA also won only three of the eight City Council districts, but those three districts contributed two-thirds of the total vote in the election. That’s what targeting is all about.

Concert hall backers are likely to spend a quarter of a million dollars on their campaign. Much of this will go into advertising, with heavy use of print, plus billboards and yard signs. As in all political campaigns, this will be an effort to create a favorable image for the hall. The trappings of elitism that cling to the arts will have to be shed through advertising appeals to families (“we will expand our youth concert series”) and to people worried about the economy (“we will generate new tax revenues”).

In spite of City Council support for the symphony, it is unlikely that the concert hall campaign will boast of endorsements from council members. The council is more controversial than the symphony, so the posture of political independence is most helpful.

This is one of the inherent contradictions of a bond campaign. It is a highly political effort, but the campaigners want to give the impression of rising above politics. If the voters don’t think too hard about this, the tactic might work.

The DMFA proved in 1979 that it could appear vaguely populist when politically necessary. Look for the symphony to try the same approach. When you see ensembles of symphony players performing in parks and shopping centers, you’ll be seeing politics at work.

Dallas art organizations have assets that any politician envies -money and volunteers. Montgomery won’t have much trouble raising whatever he needs for the campaign. Also, he’ll be able to count on hundreds of arts supporters to run telephone banks, stuff envelopes, knock on doors and do anything else necessary.

With all this going for the concert hall, why won’t it be a cinch? Factors unrelated to the symphony come into play. In neighborhoods where there is distrust of City Hall, any bond proposition will be viewed with skepticism. Unless the economy turns around soon, many people will want to wait for better times before committing the city to ambitious new projects.

An informal, ongoing poll of local political activists reveals that few think the symphony has better than a 50-50 chance to win. Based on my experience directing the 1979 art museum campaign, I’m a bit more optimistic. If the symphony campaign apparatus continues to be properly funded and organized, it should be able to find enough pro-arts voters (and avoid arousing the anti-arts vote) to ensure a victory. Also, a large part of political success is merely the avoidance of catastrophe.