The most useful thing it does is refuse.
Your programs reach an audience that knows this music cold, with your name on them. The risk was never clumsy writing — it’s confident invention. Most of these are rules in the code, not intentions — a test fails if the product and this page ever disagree. Where something depends on us behaving well rather than on the code, it says so by not claiming otherwise.
It won’t put words in your mouth
Everything that goes out is signed with your organization’s name, so the line between what we draft and what we assert has to be drawn somewhere sharp.
Not a premiere date, not a venue, not an award. If a field wasn’t stated, it prints as a gap or not at all. In code: a value must appear in what you wrote before it can reach a page.
Donors, tributes, artists, dedications — quoted exactly as given. Not “Bob” into “Robert,” not a fixed capital, not tidied punctuation. In code: input string and printed string are compared byte for byte.
Three rows at one address might be a household or three people. We show you and you decide; we never quietly combine them.
A memorial written by a family is theirs, grammar and all. If it doesn’t fit the space, we say so and let them cut it.
Ever. A translation ships only where we can name the published edition it came from; otherwise the original stands alone and the column is empty.
We’ll assemble the paragraph of facts every application asks for, with every figure sourced. The case for your organization is yours to make.
It won’t invent imagery
A sponsor whose ad shows a building they don’t own is a phone call you don’t want.
No stock orchestra, no invented storefront, no face where one of your artists should be. Either the photograph is theirs, or the piece is typographic — which is a design choice, not a downgrade.
If a sponsor’s file is low-resolution, we ask them for a better one. We don’t trace it and hope.
Program pages are set in our house faces so they read like a concert program, not like a website printed out. Your colors and logo dress the cover and everything your audience receives as yours. In code: a test fails if a brand token reaches the printed interior.
It won’t act on its own
The desk chases what you already agreed to. These limits aren’t settings, and no one can turn them on — including us.
Anyone who has never heard from your organization gets a message only after you’ve read it once.
No invoice, no price, no payment reminder goes out unread. Nothing marks itself paid except a card payment.
No discounts, no counter-offers, no raising a rate because it’s been three years. Renewal is a conversation with an option to hold the price on purpose.
The third reminder sounds like the first. Software that gets sterner with a volunteer’s advertiser is spending your relationship, not ours. In code: one ask per advertiser per cadence window, refused rather than softened.
Times are announced by your conductor. Thirty musicians negotiating by robot is not a feature.
No likelihood-to-renew, no donor propensity, no engagement grade on anyone in your community.
It won’t touch your money
We write the invoice. Your bank holds the money.
Not ads, not tributes, not tickets. A percentage would make our rate-card advice and our renewal reminders worth doubting — and you’d be right to doubt them.
Card payments land in your own account, under your organization’s name; the receipt says you, not us. Cheques and transfers never come near us at all.
A cheque is paid when your treasurer says it cleared. We don’t read your bank, and we won’t put a number in front of your board that nobody confirmed. In code: marking paid records a person, and only a card payment marks itself.
It won’t do anything with your information
You are handing us a donor list, an ad ledger and the names of everyone who plays for you. This is the part a board will ask about, so here it is in plain words.
Nothing you write, upload or import is used to train a model — not yours, not anyone’s, not in aggregate.
No donor list, no mailing list, no advertiser contact leaves this product. There is no version of Seasonata where your supporters become someone’s audience.
We watch how the product is used — whether a deadline was met, whether a proof was approved. We don’t publish what your donors gave or what your ads earned, and we don’t build a league table of small orchestras.
Every program, every list, every file, in one click, at any time — including the day you leave. We won’t hold a season hostage.
These aren’t settings. What’s held for review is editable per flow; the refusals on this page are not editable by anyone, including us. Several are executable tests in the product’s own suite, and this page changes only when the code does.
If we ever break one of these, tell us and we’ll fix it or say plainly that we’ve changed our mind. A refusal that quietly stops being true is worse than never having made it.