It’s Not Just Logistics: Why Kindness Builds Better Events—and a Better Europe

By Inka Jelinek Jurkova

If you’d asked me once what defines a great production manager, I would have answered without hesitation: quick thinking, hard work, and a steady hand when chaos hits. It also helps to have a phone full of contacts—people who can deliver 100 tables and chairs in under an hour, farmers with crates of decorative pumpkins (plus access to municipal compost sites for responsible disposal), or specialists who know how to clean baroque sandstone stairs stained by a catering company’s spilled goulash. Yes, all of these are real examples from my 15 years in production management.

Over time, though, I’ve realised it takes more than just skills and connections. These practical tools have certainly helped me succeed—I’ve consistently coordinated events to high standards—not for recognition, but for the people on stage (both literally and figuratively), and for the audience who chose to spend their precious time there. My goal has always been to ensure that attendees leave not feeling like they’ve wasted their time, but instead enriched, carrying thoughts and emotions that stay with them long after the event ends.

Creating a memorable one-time event is one thing; building a gathering that truly feels like a community coming together is something else entirely. Without fostering a sense of belonging, your program, project, or event is unlikely to grow into a values-driven brand that makes a lasting impact. Through years of organising events, I’ve come to understand that the most important “skill” isn’t technical perfection—it’s kindness. Genuine attentiveness to and anticipation of individual needs, especially for those with specific requirements, creates meaningful experiences.

The more diverse the communities I’ve worked with, the clearer it’s become: success doesn’t come from a flawless logistics plan alone. It comes from listening carefully and responding thoughtfully to the unique needs of every partner, client, and audience member. Kindness is not a weakness or a sign of inexperience; in fact, it’s the opposite. It’s a mark of professionalism. The more present and attentive you allow yourself to be, the better your event will be, despite the pressure to juggle a hundred details. When you build a true sense of community, the feeling of “you didn’t prepare this well enough for us” fades. The event transforms into something co-created—something shared.

In many ways, I see the role of a production manager as similar to that of a curator. But instead of curating content for an exhibition, you’re curating the tone and texture of the programme. To borrow the words of Canadian interdisciplinary artist and curator Norman Armour:

“I see the act of curation as a conversation. It can take many forms, but ultimately, it must be a true and legitimate conversation. I need to consider the audience as someone I wish to speak to, and perhaps more importantly, with. To do that, I also need to listen to them. I need to consider the reception and the impact on programming.”

In returning to my original field of production management, I’ve come to see large music festivals as temporary towns. Thousands share space, bathrooms, food vendors, water, alcohol and content. These “temporary citizens” might leave their daily lives behind for a while, but it’s still a society that must cooperate to function. Every festival has a distinct energy—some are pure joy or chill, others feel like the Hunger Games, with constant competition for space and attention. The difference lies in the “conversation” between organisers and attendees: how much each side listens and responds to the other. In many ways, it’s a small-scale version of community-building—and even of the European project itself: diverse people coming together, sharing resources, navigating tensions, and shaping a collective experience that works for everyone. And just like in Europe, the glue that holds it all together isn’t just rules or logistics—it’s everyday acts of kindness that turn a crowd into a community.

To shape Europe into the open, shared space envisioned by the European Cultural Foundation, we must actively listen and prioritise within our own events. In my career, I’ve learned the difference between organising for a community and creating something with it. Over the past two years, I have practised this with the inspiring participants of The Europe Challenge, who have repeatedly told us that the programme meetings they joined “fostered a sense of unity and common purpose.” For me, this is the most meaningful feedback: a sign that an event can have a lasting impact and help shape a truly European sense of connection.

When we create an environment rooted in kindness, we also make room for honest conversations and healthy friction—the kind that sparks creativity, builds courage, and helps us shape better arguments for the world beyond the event.

And if you’re a hard worker who’s willing to go the extra mile with your community in mind, everything else tends to fall into place. And if not? I promise: no one will remember the upside-down logo on the poster on the third floor. But they will remember how your event made them feel.

_

Inka Jelinek Jurkova is a freelance producer working for The Europe Challenge events and various cultural initiatives across Europe.

Applications for The Europe Challenge 2025–26 are open until 29 May 2025, 12.00 CEST.