ACTIVATION PERSPECTIVES

There are few municipalities that would not benefit from increased public engagement. If the goal is to get citizens to connect with their community and feel proud of where they live, a robust event portfolio is one of the most powerful and cost-effective tools available. Events attract people, supports local business and strengthens civic identity. But success doesn’t start with banners and tents. It starts with identifying the core goals and making those the primary focus.

Public spaces are for everyone. That’s a given. But, when planning a public event site, the most important questions are always, for whom and what are we designing? If the answer is everyone and everything, there is a lack of specificity that invites wasted expense. In practical terms, designing for everyone is tantamount to designing for no one, and similarly so with undefined purpose.

As the plan takes shape, one should continually ask, if I was not on the design team, would I be attracted to what we’re planning?

It’s a pivotal, even humbling question because it requires one to step outside one’s own enthusiasm — and the committee’s collective enthusiasm — long enough to see that the plan continues to meet the core goals. It requires objectivity, not assumption; demands clarity, not comfort.

People attend public events for different reasons, at different times, with different expectations. Some want a lively music scene. Some want cultural programming. Some want family-friendly activities. Others want open space and freedom to explore. If we fail to articulate define and prioritize who and what we’re designing for at the onset, we default to designing for ourselves.

The work of evaluating needs and defining real audiences is where the planning process is most challenging. This is where the most common pitfalls occur, quietly shaping or misshaping, the decisions-making process going forward.

There are also some invisible forces that often sabotage even the best-intentioned teams, committees and stakeholder groups.

COGNITIVE BIASES

We all have them. In fact, our brains are wired to use shortcuts — assumptions, preferences, expectations — to make decisions faster. We couldn't function day-to-day without them. But when planning for new or unusual activities, assumptions can sneak in without us noticing.

For example, perhaps it’s assumed events have a particular time frame or that a particular demographic will avoid things organized by a municipality. Or maybe we’re convinced that an idea must work because it feels right.

Bias isn’t the enemy. Pretending we don’t have them is.

GROUPTHINK

You know this one. Someone on the team shares an idea, everyone nods politely, and before you know it, the idea feels like consensus. Not because it was scrutinized, or seriously evaluated — but because no one wants to disrupt the sense of harmony in the room.

Groupthink is comfortable, efficient, and incredibly dangerous.

Does this really happen? One need only look to the corporate world where examples are not hard to find: the Quaker Oats purchase of Snapple, Kodak shelving its digital camera technology, the wildly optimistic hype around the Segway, or the disastrous launch of New Coke. In each case, the consensus felt strong — until reality proved otherwise.

When planning a site meant to welcome residents and events of all types, convenient consensus cannot be the objective. The final outcome will be there for a long time and what looked good on paper has to function in the real world. That requires healthy disagreement, curiosity, and the courage to ask: Is this the best way to achieve our goal? What might we be overlooking?

Alignment should be earned through thoughtful debate and genuine evaluation — not quietly assumed because there were no decentring voices.

WISHFUL THINKING

It happens when plans are built around the outcome we want instead of what’s likely. We pictures the smiling people, the social media photos, the glowing feedback… while unintentionally overlooking tiny details, anomalies and physical constraints that could prevent success.

Being positive is good. Being blindly optimistic can be expensive.

FINALLY

There is an all-too-common bugaboo — the curse of ‘plan view’ design. Drawings are two-dimensional, life is not. Who has not been in a mall or ‘big box’ parking lot where navigating the curbs, islands and planters would benefit from GPS? Elements that look sleek, balanced and well organized in ‘plan’ are often bewildering or illogical for people on the ground. The speed and limitless possibilities of CAD have yielded many amazing things.

It’s important that the built environment manifests the same creativity and grace as the ‘plan view’ drawings.

Our fascination with extremes knows no bounds. From towering skyscrapers to diminutive facsimiles, we are drawn to objects and attractions that defy the norm, capturing our imagination and evoking a sense of wonder. Whether it's the world's tallest building or the tiniest museum, these extreme manifestations hold a special place in our hearts and continue to intrigue us for various reasons. The cognitive discord produced is an attention magnates.

One of the most captivating aspects of scale is their sheer novelty. When confronted with something that deviates drastically from our experience, our senses are heightened, and our curiosity is piqued. Take, for example, oversized roadside attractions like the towering Paul Bunyan statues or the colossal rubber duck that toured various harbours around the world. These mammoth structures not only serve as eye-catching landmarks but also spark conversations and create lasting memories for those who encounter them.

On the flip side, undersized attractions, such as the world's smallest bookstore or the tiniest park, possess a charm that is equally irresistible. Their diminutive size challenges our perception of what is possible, prompting us to marvel at the intricacies of their design and construction. These miniature marvels often pack a surprising amount of detail and ingenuity into their limited space, leaving a lasting impression on visitors who experience them firsthand.

Our fascination with extremes extends beyond mere novelty; it taps into deeper psychological phenomena. Oversized objects, for instance, can evoke feelings of awe and insignificance as we stand in their shadow, humbled by their grandeur. Conversely, undersized attractions can elicit feelings of delight and amusement as we marvel at their pint-sized perfection. In both cases, these extreme experiences offer a temporary escape from the realities of everyday life, allowing us to immerse ourselves in a world of wonder and imagination.

Oversized and undersized attractions often serve as symbols of human ambition and creativity. The construction of monumental structures like the Burj Khalifa, currently the world’s tallest skyscraper, or the Great Wall of China, showcases our relentless pursuit master our world, while the creation of miniature masterpieces exemplifies our ability to find beauty in the smallest of details. These feats of engineering and artistry remind us of the boundless potential of the human spirit and inspire us to dream big, regardless of the obstacles we may face.

In addition to their aesthetic appeal and psychological impact, oversized and undersized attractions also play a significant role in tourism and cultural identity. Cities and regions around the world vie for attention by erecting larger-than-life monuments or showcasing their most diminutive treasures. These attractions not only draw tourists and revenue but also foster a sense of pride and belonging among local communities, who see them as symbols of their heritage and ingenuity.

In the context of a public realm site, being oversized trumps miniaturized. Large elements have the advantage of being able to attract viewers from a distance, from a highway for example. Smaller, more intricate enticements typically require a marketing campaign to create awareness. But both can have significant appeal.

In conclusion, our fascination with oversized and undersized objects and attractions stems from a combination of factors, including novelty, psychological appeal, and cultural significance. Whether we find ourselves marvelling at towering skyscrapers or exploring the intricacies of miniature worlds, these extreme manifestations never fail to captivate our imagination and remind us of the limitless possibilities that exist in our world. As we continue to push the boundaries of what is possible, one thing remains certain: our love affair with extremes shows no signs of waning.

Few like to mention it but economics drives most things. This is particularly true for the show and event business. Cost and frequency are directly inverse factors; the higher the price tag, the less likely that thing is to occur. For the most part this relationship is universal. There are some distortions, sponsorship for example, where a particular presentation need not be entirely self-liquidating, but they are the exceptions and not the rule.

Over time, equipment and practices have standardized, not only to reduce cost but also to increase flexibility. Standardization makes the impossible — possible. The average arena show, the backbone of the music business, loads-in about 12,000 cubic feet of equipment, starting at 08h00, and have it all back in trailers shortly after midnight — often six days a week. They do it with a road crew of twenty, give or take, and a small army of local stagehands who are not familiar with the show. Shows are all different but the systems are common to all.

Community events are slightly less pressure-filled. They also have smaller and often less experienced operational staffs. For these kinds of presentations, every dollar counts. A couple of hundred dollars of additional cost can be the difference between breaking-even and making the event impractical to stage.

In addition to their primary function, the design of local infrastructure requires a good understanding of industry standards. This is especially true in two key areas; electrical provisioning and vehicular access. Shortfalls in either result in lost time and money, for years to come.

An event site without flexible infrastructure is a field. At the same time, getting too clever or programming a space too tightly, has a tendency to satisfy the needs of few, a situation that is sadly all too common. Meeting the requirements of event organizers without restricting their ability to evolve is the task at hand.

The pubic rapidly becomes bored with things that do not change. But ‘real’ change is uncomfortable for most. This paradox, common in every facet of life, forces those striving to attract and retain an audience to find ever new ways to remain fresh. Evolution rather than revolution. Flexibility of use is therefore a paramount requirement. Litheness demands it.

By definition, built-in infrastructure tethers use to a certain extent, yet there is an obvious need to physically locate electrical connections. How those connection points are designed can be the difference between an adaptive power distribution system, one that supports flexibility, or one that to a very real extent restricts options. Both approaches look good on paper but the operational differences are profound.

An incidental consideration, seasonal plugs, may help illustrate this reality. As mentioned in a previous post, seasonal light displays are an 'easy win' for almost any event site, be it a dedicated or mixed-use location like a street. The frequent distribution of standard outlets in plantings, near benches and along footpaths is all that is required for truly mesmerizing lighting displays in the future. However, grouping those outlets on a small number of circuits, similar to the provisioning in a building lobby, where the need is solely convenience, completely thwarts purpose.

Another consideration that often gets short-shrift is vehicular access; not satisfying cursory access for the occasional maintenance vehicle, but rather, planning for realistic use. Shows and special events are temporary. Getting booths, stages, equipment, provisions and personnel on and off the site requires many vehicles.

The 'start' and 'finish' times of all shows and events concentrates activity. A good-sized booth show might require 50 to 75 vans and cars to be on site in the two hours prior to opening; a good-sized concert, two semi-trailers and a five-ton truck; a music festival will have trucks of all sizes coming and going throughout, as acts 'turnover'. The vehicular ingress and egress planning impacts the site forever.

On a recent project, access required a ninety-degree turn from the street into a parking lot, a second ninety-degree turn at the far side of the parking lot and a third ninety-degree turn onto the access road. Easy in a car but somewhat more challenging for a 4 meter tractor pulling a 16 meter trailer. With patrons wandering around the site, paying little attention, such maneuvers are unsafe. Planners assumed the parking would always be empty. Maybe the event organizers will be lucky.

It is impossible to explain an industry with so many moving parts in a few paragraphs. There are many movies that have the music business as a backdrop. All are mostly fanciful, to say the least, but there are four notable exceptions; indie artist David Byrne's 1984 'Stop Making Sense', Malik Bendjelloul's 2012 'Searching For Sugar Man' and Morgan Neville's 2013 'Twenty Feet From Stardome', all documentaries, and Rob Reiner's irreverent 1984 mockumentary, 'This Is Spinal Tap'. The documentaries (anything but dull) offer fascinating glimpses into the real workings of the business, while many of the situations depicted in the satire are astonishingly true to life.

The pandemic has derailed shows and events almost everywhere. As of this writing it remains unclear when some semblance of normalcy might return. Health officials and pundits alike comment frequently on the ill-effects of lockdowns and isolation, self-imposed or otherwise, eroding the vitality of the individual spirit as well as the fabric of community. Most of us cluster by nature, feeling more than a little angst when we are prevented from doing so.

One bright spot, if you'll pardon the pun, are seasonal light displays. Privately sponsored or community funded, 'twinkle lights' enjoy almost universal appeal, drawing interest from a broad cross-section, with an allure that few other attractions can match. The magnetism may well have 'limbic' origins, a throwback to a time when motion, colour and contrast alerted us to approaching predators. Whatever the reason, response seems instinctive - mesmerizing and beguiling more than just the Instagram generation.

Lighting displays need not be limited to the 'Holiday Season' though that iconography is certainly the most readily available commercially. Japan, for example, has embraced the concept with intensity. Various cities around the country mount extraordinary displays, cumulatively running from early October through Valentine's Day. Among Japan's first and still the most spectacular is Kobe's Luminarie, an Italian designed light festival first held as a memorial to the victims of the disastrous Kobe earthquake in 1995. The scale is simply breathtaking.

From a community funding perspective, there are few presentations as risk-free as a seasonal light display. They are virtually guaranteed to draw large numbers and, relative to other entertainment properties, they are exceedingly cost-effective. Municipalities or a Business Improvement Area can start the ball rolling with a small number of striking elements and then add additional components annually. What constitutes 'critical mass', the number of elements required to make a bold statement in the first year is very much site dependant.

In most cases elements will be commercially made and purchased but there is little to prevent local craftspeople from creating the components, perhaps as a community project. While manufactured elements have a look and finish that is admittedly hard for the less experienced to match, seasonal light displays are one form where quantity has a quality all its own. And with a few tweaks, your 'Seasonal' display can be converted into a Winter Wonderland, providing energy and excitement through many long winter evenings.

There are sources available in North America, Europe and lots in the Orient. Buying directly from a manufacturer is the most economical approach but establishing the right comfort level can sometimes present challenges for 'public' buyers. A web search will provide many local (North American) resellers, making purchase and transportation less complicated. Remember to check on electrical certifications. Ideally one would like CSA or ULC approval, or at the very least UL listed components.

Seasonal displays are often outdoor attractions, where the weather is unpredictable. Typically components come with standard plugs but spend a bit more for the IP connector option. These small, threaded connector (there are a few configurations) keeps water and dirt out. While slightly more expensive than their blade connector cousins, the dependability and reduction in maintenance cost, even in the first year of operation, more than offset the modest increase in price.

The competition for attention relentlessly increases and it is important for event sites and attractions to maintain a competitive edge. Physical changes are costly and it is often hard to determine the optimal time to invest, before losing the interest of too many patrons. Remaining fresh in the mind of your audience is vital. Once that perception is lost it is very difficult to win back (see "Positioning:The Battle for Your Mind" - Al Ries & Jack Trout — McGraw-Hill). While events themselves generally offer a strong 'call to action,' no matter how robust the event schedule, there will always be many more days when there are no 'activations' on the site. Pleasant surroundings — landscaping, built elements, features and the like — typically have considerable appeal but these things by nature are mostly static, and over time become familiar.

There is a truly amazing technology that enjoys almost universal market penetration, has zero capital and maintenance cost implications for organizers and yet remains dramatically underutilized. The technology is the smartphone, of course, and it has the potential to be a very potent event and attractions tool. The single biggest marketing question of the time is 'what do Millennials want?' The answer to that differs considerably depending on who you talk to but smartphones are undeniably their 'home turf'. Ignoring such a rich opportunity is shortsighted.

At their most rudimentary, smartphones can be dynamic event communication and wayfinding devices, providing the kind of timely information that brings a 'visit' to life. This might include highlighting feature elements, sharing special offers; provide detailed exhibitor and/or product information or simply real-time directions based on location. Generally speaking these are within easy reach.

However, the recent global sensation 'Pokémon Go' irrefutably establishes the extraordinary leverage these devices can offer. Smartphones and tablets can be transformed into site-specific, even category-focused entertainment elements that deliver exceptional appeal. They help create a tangible 'relationship' for and with visitors, and virtual activities can be separate from, or an enhancement to the physical event program. They can be used individually, in co-operation, or in competition with others. They allow for the dynamic animation of a site, particularly at times when events are not in progress. Virtual content can also be seamlessly layered, allowing different uses, age groups or levels, without any physical changes to site touchstones.

If that wasn't enough, the growing penetration of 'augmented reality' (AR) adds yet another level of excitement for users. AR deliberately blurs the line between real and virtual in unusual and creative ways, a kind of real-world 'CGI' if you will. It provides a richly imaginative environment as well as a very compelling motivation to return to a site again and again.

AR is not something that's coming soon. It's here now. For example, California vintner '19 Crimes' has AR wine labels on the shelves of Ontario's liquor stores (LCBO) today. Simply point your smartphone at the bottle, click on their 'app' and the label comes to life, telling you the story behind the beverage — no purchase necessary. Entertainment applications include the Jurassic Park Experience at Universal Studios, as well as any of the INDE AR installations in museums, zoos and malls. Even Ikea has an AR app. The impact they deliver is simply indisputable.

Changes in the virtual plane can be (but are not always) more cost-effective than physical upgrades. But the most significant value is unparalleled user engagement, and that translates into increased traffic. Next time you're at a mall, look around and see how many places use screens of all types to inform and capture the imagination of patrons. Without a doubt, screen content in all its forms is here to stay.

By definition, attraction (noun) is "the action or power of evoking interest in or liking for someone or something" and (verb) "causing one to come to a place or participate in an activity by offering something of interest and/or benefit". The meanings are fairly straightforward; successfully implementing them can be anything but. Attractions are for people, and the wants, needs and desires of people are complicated. Planning an attraction that strives to appeal to everybody, in effect is planning for no one. One size fits none.

The halcyon days of 'mass appeal' are long gone. It's not clear if they ever really existed, or if that success was simply the result of limited choice. Today, consumer expectations are high, very high, and the range of targeted leisure options extensive. Designing successful attractions requires one to utilize available resources in the most strategic way possible, in order to create the highest impact. The best attractions are the result of objective thinking and continually challenging preconceptions, the latter being the work of a lifetime for designers.

In that regard, we (at Event Specification) are occasionally accused of harboring a pessimistic perspective. Given the complexity of the task, from our vantage this is simply realism, informed by a detailed understanding of the things that capture people's interest. In the quest to attract people, pragmatism is not a limitation but rather a fundamental requirement, if the ultimate goal is to attract significant numbers.

Accurately defining the audience demographic is critical. To begin with, is the target constituency tourist or locally based? Broadway and the Las Vegas strip thrive almost entirely on tourists, so their competitive benchmarks are global. With a site or attraction intended for people in the area, the competition is more regional. Tourist attractions need not change (appreciably) over time. Their audience is in constant churn. Local attractions, with a fixed constituency, need to be refreshed frequently or run the risk of becoming stale.

What best captures interest and imagination is very much audience dependant. In general terms, things that are 'unique' ― things that cannot be seen or experienced elsewhere top the list. Who would visit Paris without seeing the Eiffel Tower or Rome without seeing the Coliseum? These are icons, certainly, but Lombard Street in San Francisco, a favorite example, is nothing more than a serpentine, residential street with lots of flowers, yet it attracts over 2 million visitors a years. All of these have one thing in common, they're all unique.

Scale is one of the easiest ways to attract attention. That does not necessarily mean something massive, at least not in the strict sense. Instead, it's about owning a position in the public consciousness. The town of Florenceville-Bristol NB differentiates itself as the 'French-Fry Capitol of the World'. The town is home to a very large McCain's French Fry plant. The Potato World attraction located near the plant is modest in its delivery, and lots of improvements are possible, but one's imagination is still arrested by the audaciousness of their claim.

Relatively simple elements like miniatures, trompe l'oeil, paving patterns, optical illusions or geometric repetition; as well as complex things like genuinely inspired creativity, done well and with significant 'mass', can deliver similar results as having an iconic structure with which to anchor an attraction. Truly successful attractions are never described as 'like' or 'similar to'; the appeal is always in a category of its own. Something bold. Something audacious. Something intriguing. People are always attracted to 'unique'.

“It's tough to make predictions, especially about the future.” ― Yogi Berra

Anyone claiming to accurately predict the future should probably be taken with a grain of salt, Faith Popcorn notwithstanding. Trends and preferences evolve with time and circumstance; often catalyzed by unrelated influences. Physicist Leonard Mlodinow underscores the difficulty of prediction with a simple analogy. When a single drop of ink dissipates in a glass of water, it is relatively straightforward to determine  (at least for him)  the precise point where the ink entered the water, using a good pocket calculator.  However, predicting where the ink will spread prior to it entering the water is beyond the ability of a super computer. There are just too many variables.

This anecdote does not bode well for the process of future-proofing, the accuracy of which it would seem, being little more than informed guesswork. Fortunately, the task of meaningful event prediction is nowhere near as random as the spread of one liquid in another. The thing that most impacts extended duty-cycle is not specification or configuration, it's people. Our attention spans are becoming ever-shorter and our desire for change more rapacious. You can see the effects of this everywhere. Durable-goods like fridges, stoves and washing machines used to last 25 to 30 years. Appliances are now replaced much more frequently (on average, now 9.4, 10.8 and 8.3 years respectively), not because of obsolescence, but largely for cosmetic reasons. The voracious and unsustainable consumption of smartphones says it all.

We demand change, everywhere, in order to sustain our interest. That's why 'new' and 'improved' are the two most powerful words in advertising. Ironically radical change, or more correctly fear of the unknown, is also something we dread. For automobiles, change comes in two flavours, evolution and revolution. Consumers demand annual change but too much of a 'good' thing challenges our comfort zone. For that reason revolutionary change is rare. It is also only rarely accepted. The AMC Pacer and the '82 Cadillac Seville with the radical (read missing) trunk, spring to mind. Remember the Segway self-balancing, personal transporter, on which we were all now going to be zipping around?

Fresh environments demonstrably offer increased appeal. Most mall leases require tenants to undertake a major renovation every 5 to 7 years. These are costly and potentially disruptive projects but the new 'look' typically boosts sales significantly for several months after completion. Between renovations virtually all sophisticated retailers engage in ongoing tweaks to keep their premises fresh and customers returning. In both retail and attractions, becoming 'stale' is a reliable bellwether of decline.

This is not to suggest that 'future-proofing' is neither possible nor necessary. Rather, when the goal is attracting people in an ultra-competitive marketplace, future-proofing exists primarily at the infrastructure level, the backbone if you will, allowing the 'look' of the site to be refreshed frequently. While customers constantly need new stimuli, the underpinning required to support the site operation remains relatively constant. There are always technological advances and new applications but, with few exceptions, these are evolutionary not revolutionary. In the end planning for future-proofing generally comes down to the big four; power, data, water and drains.

The reasons for product 'consistency' are business-based. Manufacturers strive to create cutting-edge innovations, certainly, but at the same time, the high cost of research and development dictates that they have a ready market for those new products. Requiring customers to shoulder large infrastructure costs in order to purchase new innovations dramatically restricts sales potential, so evolution and not revolution is the prudent choice. Only the most disruptive new technologies can get away with upsetting the apple cart, and they typically take years, if not decades before achieving general acceptance.

A well designed event site is like a canvas. It should adeptly support a wide variety of activities without requiring organizers to incur additional or extraordinary cost. The topography and physical proportions of the site typically dictate the most practical uses, and appropriate infrastructure can be planned accordingly. Through the operational life-cycle of the space there may well be changes like connection types or how services aggregate. With the right infrastructure compliment, such changes should be minor and easily achieved. As for the need to continually present a fresh 'look' for patrons, that is something else again.

The fundamental tenet of attracting people is 'knowing your audience'. Who are they? What do they want? Do the things being contemplated appeal to them? In an urban centre there are many people and diverse interests. As the number of people increases, tightly targeting people and attractions becomes less critical. Here, lack of people is the heart of the issue so every element must be considered carefully, and designed to attract the largest numbers. Adding to the complexity, the demographic involved is by no means harmonized. Many kinds of people travel for many reasons. Fortunately, the nature of road travel imposes common requirements; food, fuel, washrooms, lodging, fatigue, boredom and so on, loosely uniting disparate interests. As a result, travelers can be divided into two broad categories, commercial and discretionary. There may be some modest crossover but the latter probably represents the grouping with the greatest growth potential.

In practical terms, interesting travelers in what the town has to offer is a two step process. The first step is making the community a logical, even a preferred place to stop along that part of the highway, in the mind of the traveler. The second step, is enticing those who do stop to venture beyond highway-based amenities into the unknown. In deference to time, we will limit the scope of this post to the first step.

Getting people to stop is by no means easy. For most, the primary focus of any trip, in-town or out, is the destination. Expanding that focus to include a new experience requires something very compelling, and, more centrally, an efficient way to communicate the inherent features and advantages therein. Signage is of paramount importance but traditional municipal markers, regardless of intricacy, fall shy of the mark. If one is not already looking for the location, certainly not the case here, a sign at the edge of town does little (read nothing) to influence behavior. With traffic and road conditions, or even the scenery, a sign can easily be missed. At a minimum, one must first introduce the concept, then reinforce the concept, then remind people of the concept just before the point of choice.

In fact, good signage tells a story, makes a case, intrigues and presents an imperative. It describes a unique opportunity that, if declined, is potentially an experience lost. Community signage should be a marketing device, not a greeter. It must be tasteful, certainly, but it must also telegraph difference, not similarity. And at 100 km/h, it must be very simple, yet information-rich.

The pay-off for travelers must be immediate. Upon entering the stretch of highway servicing the community, something unique should command attention; a public realm feature like an observation deck or walkway, floral or electronic clock or oversized curio, for example. It need not be complicated, just arresting. Strong features become touchstones that capture imagination, shifting a high percentage of travelers from life speed (destination), to look speed (discovery), a very critical distinction in attracting an audience. They also have the potential to become de facto landmarks; not in a stodgy sense, but rather as a logical point of punctuation.

Much like special events, tourist attractions vary substantially. The offering might be historically based, a large-scale development or a single unique feature. It could even be simply a well-placed natural resource. Regardless of type, the success of any attraction rests almost exclusively in its ability to draw people.

We offer little to the physical design, nor to the nuance of the overarching political structure, but we can provide a good deal of insight into what attracts an audience, the "curb appeal" if you will. Should the needs of the visitor be a core consideration? To answer that one need only look at the costly and embarrassing saga of Flint, Michigan's AutoWorld, a protracted and ill-fated tale. Sufficed to say, the desire to rejuvenate a declining city (in the news recently for other reasons) seemed to have eclipse logic, even common sense. Such failures are not usually quite so catastrophic but neither are they rare. It is always important to guard against "if you build it, they will come" syndrome. Often they (people) do not come in sufficient numbers to reasonably sustain the investment.

Truth is places like Flint and Cleveland are not exactly top-of-mind when one thinks of tourist destination. While the latter boasts a potentially preeminent attraction in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, cognitive dissidence (why Cleveland?) and a lack of supporting attractions (critical mass), cause this well-known Institution to struggle with disappointing attendance numbers, even after thirty years of operation. Possibly the worst mass-appeal logo ever, does little to help the situation.

The requirements for capturing audience interest are fairly basic; delivering on them is something else again. In general terms the audience needs to be entertained (that can include an information component provided the delivery is engaging). The offering must be somehow unique or location-specific, and interaction with the attraction (passive or active) must be readily apparent and easy to understand. Finally, the reward versus effort ratio must be perceived as overwhelmingly advantageous.

Research shows that, as a species, we fear loss more than we are enticed by gain, twice as much apparently. For shows and attractions, that is huge. All such activities are elective and the percentage of 'first adopters' among us is small. Overcoming the apprehension that keeps most of us away from new things is hard. We might be bored. We might be embarrassed. We might accidentally choose something 'un-cool'. Ironically, the easiest way to attract a crowd is by being crowded. If others are there, it must be cool. The proverbial 'Catch 22'.

Outdoors, more primal concerns loom. It is reasonable to surrender basic concerns about getting lost and safety in a theme park or museum, where the implicit promise is a closed environment. However, on the 'mean' streets of an unfamiliar town or city, those considerations are not only real, they are amplified. How many cringe at the thought of walking around downtown Cleveland, or Flint?

In museum parlance these are all "visitor experience" issues, which require a holistic planning approach. Questions like, how will the offering be marketed? How much time do you expect an average visitor to spend at the attraction? What is the price-point? Who are the target constituents? What secondary appeal does the location offer? Are there similar (or dissimilar) attractions within walking distance that appeal to the same demographic? Is there easy access to amenities (parking, food, shopping, washrooms, cash machines)? How will visitors find their way to the attraction? Is the offering worth getting off the highway? Once there, will they consider the experience substantially positive?

Destination attractions offer inherent appeal. Discovery attractions must provide a very compelling promise as well as significant ease and convenience to overcome our basic apprehensions.

It is no longer correct to consider the competition simply in terms of similar attractions. The battle for attention these days is intense and the need to be "different', to have a unique selling proposition has never been greater. As commercial attractions become ever more compelling, everything else is forced to react. The lens through which all entertainment is now evaluated includes light sabers, virtual reality goggles and large-format video screens. No attraction exists in a vacuum. Things once considered benchmark are now just a step - and the step is on an escalator moving down at an accelerating pace.

Is the future for more modest attractions bleak? Certainly not, but the increasingly competitive landscape almost certainly demands more comprehensive strategies. One of the most exciting and as yet dramatically underutilized changes in history (no less) is the soon-to-be universal penetration of the Smartphone. This evolving technology transfers the real expense of information delivery (including maintenance and handling) to the end user, freeing operators, especially small ones, to focus on storytelling.

Digital content has virtually no incremental cost. Delivered via the web, it can be as simple as a few audio files and some utility pole numbers or as complex as a GPS triggered multi-media app with real-time local business promotion. Content can be changed at anytime, opening the possibility of seasonal or promotional add-ons. Even simple content can have strong appeal. Canadian artist Janet Cardiff created a stir in 1991 when she introduced "Forest Walk", a 12 minute jaunt in the woods augmented by a cassette soundtrack. Despite clunky technology, at least by today's standards, the audio not only provided an evocative narrative, it actually morphed into a significant part of the story fabric. The impact on imagination is hard to ignore.

By the way, if you have not yet been to the Rock and Roll Hall Fame, the facility is very well situated on the waters edge (Lake Erie) at exit 174B off I-90. It is a striking building in a manicured setting. Its Achilles' heel, however, is that there is absolutely nothing around it and downtown Cleveland, which is both clean and fairly safe, is about a half mile walk, crossing over the Interstate and a series of railroad tracks. Once there, intrepid visitors find little in the way of music to reward the effort. Tellingly, even the Induction Ceremonies are held mostly elsewhere.

Economists tell us that decisions are logical and reasoned, based on needs and the best available options at the time. Certainly, that's how you make choices, right? If that is true, why do some people pay more than $20,000 for a Rolex when an electronic Seiko or even a Swatch watch keeps infinitely more accurate time? And studies consistently show that, for example, a full priced energy drink packs more wallop than a discounted one and a name brand analgesic has more effect than a generic one, even if both came from the same respective package.

What does any of this have to do with events? The answer is simple. Events are about people and understanding people, the audience, is fundamental to success. In "Predictably Irrational" Duke University professor and author Dan Ariely explores "rationality" though a series of illuminating, often surprising experiments. He shows how expectation, emotion, social norms and other invisible, seemingly illogical forces skew our reasoning. Turns out we are remarkably complicated creatures and some very insignificant things can have a big impact on choice.

Author and motivational researcher Poco Underhill moves the discussion directly to the "point of sale" in his book "Why We Buy". He shows how fragile transactional moments are, in our context even the decision to attend the event or not, and the myriad influences that shape those perceptions. We live in an ultra-competitive environment and the struggle just to be noticed has become intense. Mainstream marketers have realized that "knowing" their customers, at least in the sense of demographic(s) and expectations, is the only reasonable way to establish and maintain a connection. For the most part these books do not provide specific answers but they do help illustrate the complexities involved and probably where one should be looking.

In most cases creating an event site is a municipal undertaking and the long-term needs of government entities differs considerably from others. There are many options in terms of event equipment available but under a "public" ownership model, most of these are too complex or just too expensive on a cost/benefit basis to be practically contemplated. In certain circumstances having some presentation equipment might be prudent, depending on the nature of the location, but generally speaking the site advantages should be the only municipal commitment to events. There are three main challenges to owning equipment. The first is storage; once you own it you need a place to store it when not in use. The second is maintenance; everything but particularly complex systems require ongoing repairs. Third is the cost associated with transportation, installation and removal, actions which cannot reasonably be deferred to those without ownership responsibility.

This may sound somewhat incompatible with the stated goal of creating a responsive event site but that is not the case. In reality there is a fairly clear delineation between what the site should encompass and that which is the responsibility of the event. In theatrical terms the site is equivalent to a "road house". It is a container and not the content. Site infrastructure should therefore be limited to the underlying systems required to operate the event; things like power, cable management, water and drains, anchor points, paving, public realm furniture, practical lighting and such like. These are things virtually all events require but which are costly and cumbersome to provide on a temporary basis. Making them available to organizers removes many of the impediments to an active event schedule.

The value of a compelling feature or series of features simply cannot be over estimated. Unusual things create interest and if the feature is really unique it will draw both local and tourists interest. The attraction itself can be grand or relatively modest but it must be something that captures the imagination of people in a way that demands interest. The city of Bilbao, Spain, put itself front and centre on the world stage arguably with a single building. Truth be told, the city was already awash in culture but the building became a catalyst for visitors.

Creating a unique attraction does not necessarily require a Frank Gehry building, though better designs for things that are going to build anyway represents a fairly easy way to get noticed. However, the "hooks" we are talking about here are those magnetic little embellishments that in many ways define a site, a community, a destination.

The "go-to" of features typically involves water. Such things are indeed captivating but they are also an overly narrow focus. Water features can be expensive to maintain (an irresistible target in times of restraint) and, in cold climates, cannot practically be operated year-round. Fortunately there are many other compelling and cost-effective alternatives. Things like scale, illumination, interactivity and artistic expression are all things that warrant exploration. In addition, a national or even international call for feature proposals helps the community's profile dramatically. Creating an astounding feature is not without cost but the "right" hook will attract interest for decades.

Patterns can be found all around us. We use them to get through life. Without patterns, in effect the "shorthand" of daily activity, the thinking process would be arduous and unrelenting. In many ways patterns make routine tasks possible (see Thinking Fast and Slow). The most obvious patterns are the ones we see. Humans find particular comfort in these. They can be ordinary and repetitive or they can be intriguing and repetitive, repetition being the very essence of pattern. Either way they bring structure and order to space, defining parameters and often harmonizing group behaviours like direction, flow and even speed.

As mentioned earlier, an event space is a "container" and the shape of the vessels should be clearly defined. There are many prosaic ways to achieve this, like fences or walls, but a far more effective approach, indeed more aesthetic is the use of ground patterns. This is by no means new. As a cultural expression this kind of artistic feature has been practiced for centuries, but seems to have almost entirely disappeared (save interlocking pavers)from the design vocabulary, ironic given the current state of construction sophistication.

The ground on which we walk is one portion of the surrounding that registers fairly significantly on the brain. For the most part that is motivated by our natural desire not to trip on anything. But that awareness can easily be shifted from functional to aesthetic simply by providing a compelling ground pattern. Take a typical hotel ballroom, for example. These rooms feature extensively pattered carpeting because the floor pattern is an integral part of the room "look". Even when the room is empty, the character of the room is apparent. An intricate ground pattern does the same for an event site. Even empty, the site looks unique and well dressed. With a mixed use site like a street, the pattern establishes the location as special, subtly intimating the benefits the space offers. Regardless of size or physical characteristics the one thing you can count on everywhere is the ground. Use this very basic feature to best advantage.