When the state Capitol’s empty, what do lobbyists do?

If the couches in the state Senate lobby could talk – their stately, dark green upholstery and all, they’d speak of nearly a century and a half of influential whispers. Every year, from January through mid-June, they are the literal seats at the table as lobbyists, lawmakers and advocates vie for eye contact or a chat with stakeholders.

But as quickly as the couches teem with the state’s most powerful lawmakers and their staffers, they just as soon vanish from the People’s House and sit vacant for the remaining six months of the year – save for the occasional security guard or group of visitors.

For lobbyists, Albany slows down in the summer compared to New York City. “With state clients, things maybe get a little quieter in the summertime,” said Zack Fink, director of external affairs in the government relations practice at Davidoff Hutcher & Citron. “For city clients, it doesn’t get quiet, ever.”

Yet long gone are the days where Albany lobbyists could check out for the summer months and resurface in September to connect with clients and revisit policy items.

“Now, you really can’t disappear because you’ve got so many moving parts,” said James McMahon, a lobbyist of more than 30 years and a partner at the Albany-based firm Elk Street Group. “If you disappear for a long time, then it’s hard to get back into it.”

Things have changed in the past few decades. On top of technological advancements and the emergence of the 24-hour news cycle, former Gov. David Paterson’s insertion of substantive policy items into the state’s annual spending document fundamentally changed the state budget process, injecting a different energy into state politics.

And the competition for lawmakers’ attention is only growing. Special interest groups spent a record $384.8 million on lobbying in the state last year, according to the state Commission on Ethics and Lobbying in Government’s annual report.

Taken together, that means the action in Albany doesn’t totally grind to a halt when lawmakers head home at the end of the session.

Though away from the stress of the state Capitol, the summer leaves plenty of room for relationship-building – and with that, the first discussions of the following year’s budget.

Fink said the summer months are the perfect opportunity for lobbyists and lawmakers to see the work of a community center or nonprofit asking for more money the following year. And Frank Nemeth, partner at Hill, Gosdeck, McGraw & Nemeth in Albany, fills his summer calendar with fundraisers and golf outings. “When I’m at a fundraiser, I don’t talk to them about legislation or government,” he told City & State. “Basically, I’ll talk to them about their district, ‘What’s happening out there? … How’s your campaign going?’ Things like that. I stay away from legislation.”

Even as some try to avoid the shop talk, summer conferences and golf tournaments are not just junkets. They serve as a critical step where the next cycle’s laws are born. Nemeth said he has seen the events yield ideas for model bills that lawmakers bring back to staffers or legislative leaders. “I don’t want to call it a breeding ground, but it’s definitely a think tank for issues and ideas,” he said.

While lobbying has its summer perks, it also has its sorrows. The state’s primary races take place at the end of June, meaning the last day of the session about two weeks earlier can mark the last time that lobbyists and lawmakers may work together. Mourning the loss of lawmakers who lose their primaries or are retiring is never easy.

“People vanish with impunity in Albany,” McMahon said. “Because of the retirements or people losing their primaries, it’s brutal because it’s kind of like they do vanish. It’s not like they’re dying, but it’s brutal how people just come and go through the process.”

Those departures also mean lobbyists need to build new relationships as legislation meaningful to their clients gets picked up by new lawmakers. And ultimately, that’s part of the job. “What lobbyists do, we’re Sherpas – we try to get the people to the mountain, right where they want to go,” McMahon said.