This article was first published at All About Jazz on May 20, 2011.

It's becoming almost pandemic for jazz festivals around the world to be challenged for deciding to broaden their programming into areas either peripherally related to jazz... or, in some cases, away from jazz entirely. Festivals like the near-iconic Montreux Jazz Festival, the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival and the Ottawa International Jazz Festiva have become easy targets for purists, who are loudly proclaiming "This isn't a jazz festival" because artists like Robert Plant's Band of Joy, Daniel Lanois' Black Dub, Seal and Deep Purple are showing up in the schedules. But the important questions are: why is this happening; and, when does a jazz festival stop being a jazz festival?

The answer to the second question is, of course, as contentious as the longstanding debate about what jazz is and—for some, more importantly—what it isn't. But examining the practicalities of managing a festival sheds some light on matters that many may not consider. And if it is fact that festivals are now being forced into a broader programming mindset than ever before, then looking at the schedules of those either in progress or looming on the horizon reveals plenty of food for thought.

Those who believe that a jazz festival stops being a jazz festival the minute it introduces any non-jazz into the program are advised to stop here. After all, there is, then, absolutely no justification for calling a festival like the OIJF a jazz festival, because it has Plant, Elvis Costello, Youssou N'Dour and Black Dub at its main stage this year. And, it's true, that this festival—which has long retained a reputation of purity long after larger festivals like Montreux bit the bullet—has significantly altered its main stage programming, with four of its eleven evenings bearing tenuous connection to jazz at best and three a little more closely tied, leaving only four shows that just about anyone could call jazz (though those who believe fusion doesn't count will be reduced by another two). But let's look at this festival and others, as a whole, before whitewashing them.

Fact: every festival is facing significant funding cuts—from both private and public sectors—the result of a global economy that often says, when times are tough, reduce funding to the arts. OIJF lost $80,000 in its bottom line last year, and like every jazz festival in the world, is also having to deal with the very real issue of demographics. Visit most jazz festivals and the preponderance of gray-hairs and no-hairs speaks to the challenge (and, largely, failure) of bringing a younger audience through the gates. And this isn't just a matter of ultimate survival, though jazz festivals that continue to appeal exclusively to the aging baby boomer population will most certainly go under within the next 10-15 years—if that. It's a matter of current economics. Government funding, for the most part, doesn't come with "no strings attached"; it's heavily tied to tourism, which means that if a jazz festival (or any festival) cannot show that it is bringing tourism dollars into its city, it'll have a hard time obtaining it. And while private sector funding is less directly tied to tourism, it is tied to profile, and how many people come to the festival and walk away with their logos in their heads. If audiences are shrinking, you can be sure that private sector funding will be reduced accordingly.

These are realities that each and every festival has to deal with, year-after-year. And some festivals—Kongsberg, Molde, Montreal, Montreux, New Orleans and Ottawa, to name just six—are all facing the same general problems, irrespective of country or continent.

One suggestion, from those who have a problem with broader programming, is to pare back ("get back to your roots") and become smaller, niche festivals, but in practical terms that simply isn't possible. You can't put the toothpaste back in the tube, they say, and festivals would have a near-impossible challenge of selling funders with the premise that "we're going to become a smaller, more focused festival, and appeal to a smaller, more select audience. Now, how about some money?" As is usually the case in a world driven by bottom lines, even artistic pursuits like festivals are expected to grow—to become bigger and better. Shrinking sends a bad message to just about everyone, and will do absolutely nothing to support the solicitation of funding, sponsorship and other critical forms of partnership that help festivals with everything from nailing down venues and getting instrument support to paying travel expenses to bring in artists from abroad.

Festivals must find new ways to attract that holy grail of attendance, the younger demographic, and they need to do so in increasing numbers. Sure, bands like B��la Fleck and the Flecktones will continue to bring in the jam band crowd, but it's megastars like Plant, Costello and Black Dub that are certain to bring capacity crowds of all ages to jazz festivals this summer. So, perhaps, it's also important to look at the acts festivals are bringing in to help bolster their bottom lines, and assess whether or not they are quality acts, acts that bring a certain amount of prestige, or are they acts that are about dollars and cents, and nothing more.

Certainly Plant, Costello and Black Dub are prestige acts—as are Paul Simon and Derek Trucks, both of whom are performing at Montreux this year. And, while it would be a stretch to call any of these acts jazz per se, digging a little beneath the surface reveals, at least, some tangential connections: Plant's roots in the blues are well-known; Costello has worked with jazz artists, including guitarist