More Than A Piece of Paper
Blog By: Mollie Reeves
“It’s more than a ticket.” That’s what Peter Wallace, Director of Ticketing, told me early in our hour-long conversation exploring DPAC’s most crucial department: Ticketing. After an evening shadowing him and attending “Nick Offerman: Big Woodchuck,” I wholeheartedly agree. A DPAC ticket is more than a piece of paper that guides you to one of 2,700 seats. It’s the start of a core memory—and, if Peter has anything to do with it, a positive one.
Wanting to give Ambassadors a deep understanding of the department, Peter uses his shadow time a bit differently than most—simply chatting. Ticketing was quickly revealed to be the axle that enables the DPAC wheel to turn, touching and informing all other departments. From Peter’s computer monitor, I watched live attendance reports as audience members scanned their tickets. I saw the backend of Ticketmaster, learning about seating maps, dynamic pricing, data analysis, and targeted marketing. I also saw how he interacted with others. “I make ‘em laugh,” he said. And he does. DPAC’s culture of positivity starts in cubicles and shapes every evening. Its impact is circular: a well-run Ticketing department and thoughtful customer care fuels an energized audience, elevating the artists onstage and further enhancing the audience experience. “At the end of the day, we want as many people as possible to see art,” summarized Peter. His focus is simple yet powerful: reward people for choosing DPAC by going the extra mile. His passion for creating cool experiences and giving people tangible goods that prove they made the right choice in purchasing a DPAC ticket is palpable. “You never know what core memories are going to be made. You never know who’s out there in the audience. My job is to make their day.” said Peter. As a performer, I’ve always believed in the magic of the performing arts—but I’ve been limiting its scope. As an Ambassador, I’ve realized that magic doesn’t just shine onstage—it starts in offices.

“Following live attendance audit updates from Peter’s office as audience members scan their tickets in the lobby… How cool?!”
After a lovely conversation and necessary Peanut M&M’s pit stop, I made it to my seat in Box 1 before Nick Offerman ambled onto the stage to roaring applause. I soon got to know him as a person, not a television personality. Part of his “Little Woodchucks: Offerman Woodshop’s Guide to Tools and Tomfoolery” book tour, this was “an evening of comedy with woodworking and bookish mirth” rooted in his childhood in a self-sustaining household of “taciturn Midwesterners” and punctuated by sarcastic political commentary. As he put it, he was “sharing with the world, in his humble and clumsy way, about tools and making stuff.” With the vocabulary and dryness of Patrick Warburton’s Lemony Snicket, he discussed the impetus for creating this book with co-author, close friend, and woodworking force Lee Buchanan. Wanting people to get together to make things with their hands, reclaim their agency, put money into their own lives and not the pockets of billionaires, and participate in society amidst an isolating digital age, the book was born, featuring accessible woodworking projects for children, adults, and adults who need to act like children again. Having a vocabulary that can only come from a life of reading (not scrolling), Offerman’s show featured not just original songs played on a handmade ukulele and live woodworking from Buchanan, but also words like: pontification, cuneiform, braggadocio, flibbertigibbet, and druthers. I laughed, I sang, I clapped, and I left the theater a smarter member of society, a more educated DPAC volunteer, and a more aware audience member. Peter was right. My Thursday evening certainly was more than a ticket.

“The view from Box 1. We Ambassadors are so lucky to literally and figuratively gain a unique perspective on DPAC shows!”