Charlie Sheen has one. Barbra Streisand has one. Even the Osmonds have one.
The stars on Hollywood Boulevard—more than 2,000 of them—are one of California’s top tourist attractions. It costs an artist $15,000 to have a star added to this famous strip of sidewalk, complete with an induction ceremony—another big tourist attraction—where the honoree receives a plaque featuring a replica of the pavement star.
Hollywood also boasts 200 stars’ handprints at the legendary Chinese Mann Theatre. Fans come from near and far to put their hands in those handprints. Both Hollywood landmarks are wonderful ways to build a fan base, something classical music desperately needs.
Classical music has no “worshipping spot,” no place for fans to have their pictures taken next to a memento of their favorite artist. The only real gathering place for disconnected fans of classical music in New York is the Met Gift Shop or Tower Records after a the concert. That doesn’t fit the bill. Hiding artists away like this is not a way to build a fan base.
Plummeting record sales and dwindling audiences show we desperately need to build a fan base—and we need to build it with a younger crowd. Classical music has no “crowning ceremony,” no Academy Awards night, no place for fans to see “the beautiful people,” except at the stage door. (And who looks beautiful after a wig comes off?) We have no “Baseball Hall of Fame.” We don’t vote for a “Most Valuable Player.”
Sports and Hollywood invented these devices for one reason: they build fan support.
It’s time for classical music to step up to home plate.
New York City and Lincoln Center must take the lead and create The Classical Music Walk of Fame. They’re in a prime position to be a “worshipping spot.” This Walk of Fame would increase ticket sales, add interest for classical music, and boost New York’s tourism revenue.
A voting board would select classical artists—past and present— as nominees for the awards. Fans would go to a website and vote for the artist of their choice. Votes would be cast at concerts, and ballots inserted in CD jackets (creating, in the process, a valuable database of classical music lovers). Fan input will build fan base.
Artists who have made significant contributions would be nominated and selected to receive a lifetime achievement award—symbolized by a symbol set in the pavement at Lincoln Center. Fans and media would attend the unveiling ceremony. Recordings would go on sale, PBS could rebroadcast an opera featuring the star, who would also appear on talk shows.
Artists and fans would cover the cost of the awards with tax deductible contributions. The fund would build a program to bring the unused army of emerging and professional artists into the schools nationwide so we could have a generation of children familiar with classical music.
Those children will likely buy tickets and recordings—boosting the entire field. If we eventually have 2,000 “stars” at Lincoln Center, at $15,000 each, that would be $30,000,000—less expenses—towards bringing artists into the schools.
Pavarotti is about to make a farewell appearance at the Met. What better way to start the tradition then to have his star be the first—a huge media event, a circus, if you will?
Some may say circuses don’t befit the seriousness of classical music. Critics need to face the current tragedy of the state of classical arts.
Lincoln Center has many sidewalks and plazas. Serious musicians must leave the hallowed halls and get out on that sidewalk to greet fans in media events.
The Classical Music Walk of Fame would be good for New York, good for classical music, good for singers and the army of other musicians. It would get the lifeblood of the industry pumping, from children to fans to young artists to seasoned professionals. Let’s officially dub New York the Classical Music Capital of the World!
CJ Williamson, Editor
Copies of the above letter have been sent to:
New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg • Paul Kellogg, General Director, New York City Opera • Reynold Levy, President of Lincoln Center • Beverly Sills, Chairwoman of Lincoln Center • Joseph Volpe, General Director, Metropolitan Opera of New York
