Tuesday, December 9, 2008

And Keep Confirming and Denying Things

We don't really want to believe that everything is based on looks. Luckily, most of the time it isn't. But when it comes to marketing, most of it is. Word of mouth counts for something, but first impressions are usually based on visuals. When you're marketing yourself, what they see is what they think they're going to get.

Aside from cleaning myself up - getting to a gym (even if it's not the gym I prepaid up to 2009, because there's only of those in Manhattan and it's nowhere near anywhere I go), generally getting better about my grooming and makeup and trying to make sure I look like a girl when I walk out the door - I'm also thinking about ways to market myself: a website, a reel, headshots, zed cards. Alla that shit. I looked at the websites of a few friends of mine who do web design, the sites they have made for other people as well as the ones they've made to promote themselves. I looked at the headshots of people I know in person, comparing the impression and expectation I get from the photo alone with the way I know this person looks, acts, and behaves when they're in front of me. I looked at a couple of peoples' reels and compared the clips in them with the acting I know they give in performance. Reels for dance companies I've helped to costume, websites for theater companies I've worked with. Read reviews for actors I know and shows I was in or saw, and again for companies I've worked with.

Sadly, there's little to no correlation between how good the websites and reviews make you look and the actual work you put out. Actors I've thought were painful to watch have gotten great reviews. Shows that I KNEW to be terrible sound amazing according to the papers. Fuck, Spring Awakening won eight freakin' Tonys and I've said and stand by the statement that if that show were a person, I would punch it in the face for wasting my time. I read reviews even though I know I'm not supposed to. I greedily seek them out, in fact. But even though I know I would be bothered if someone said something unflattering about my acting, what I'm supposed to know is that it wouldn't mean shit.

Let's take a look at an example of a great website and a company which isn't ungreat, but isn't accurately represented by its promotional material. At this point I've lost track of who reads this blog, but I can't keep sterile forever. I'm naming names and I'm sorry if any feelings get hurt, but there's nothing I'm about to say that I wouldn't stand behind if we see each other face to face again. Let's talk about Four Larks Theatre.

The website is designed by Stephanie Butterworth, who also did all the photography seen on the Four Larks website. Their website looks cool, doesn't it? It looks wicked. It's gorgeous. The photographs? Awesome. It looks like a hip, beautiful, rich, delicious artistic cornucopia. The design looks amazing. The tableaus look incredible. These plays must be transcendent.

The plays ARE pretty. I will give them that.

I worked with them on three different occasions, for Alice, Nine Crimes, and The Invitation. Each time, I kept thinking...they're almost interesting. The next show will be better. The next show will have it. Alice was pretty, but meaningless. Why did they want to tell this story, what was in it that was interesting, apart from an excuse to put together some pretty pictures? I don't believe they ended up with an answer on that one. The next one, I thought. That one was for a class, they must have matured artistically to be putting in the effort of mounting a whole production independently of any class or project. It's something they just want to do for themselves, there must be something they can't wait to say.

Again, it was pretty. There were almost some themes. Those themes were often dropped when a pretty piece of lace was found, but...maybe the next one. The aesthetic was basically exactly the same as the last show, but maybe they just wanted to perfect the decaying Victorian look (which was already perfected with Signs of Life, a show the department did my freshman year, in my opinion, but they weren't here for that). Let them reach this design conclusion on their own and then they'll be ready to stretch and explore some new forms, something else they're interested in.

Instead, they continue to dwell in the realm of creepy Victorian for no good reason other than it's pretty. Images they found visually arresting (beginning the show with someone climbing out of a trunk) were plagiarized from themselves for The Invitation with even less justification than the last time, but at this point it was just time to learn my lesson. Four Larks is not a place to go to work and stretch and try and develop something into something more. It is a place you go because you already know what you want, because you'll get exactly what you expect, and you'll have a glass of wine and some music and a good, pretty time. Just don't expect your inner artist to be stirred, because you/he/she/it will only be disappointed.

But the pictures! The website! Doesn't it look like it has amazing production values, such richness, such heart? Passion? Don't the quoted reviewers make it sound like they've really got something to say?

This is the thing, though. The professionalism of the photos and the website make the company seem professional. And while there are many positive adjectives I would use to describe Four Larks - most of them having to do with visual or musical elements rather than thematic - I would say that all of it stems from Four Larks' soul as a group at play. It's playtime, it's dressup, a good time is meant to be had by all. But professional it's anything but.

So. Marketing tools like websites and pictures can make you think things about a product long before you ever come in contact with it. What do I want people to think about me, expect from me based on my marketing tools? Professional? Talented? Creative? Imaginative? Playful? Romantic? Funny? Forceful? Flexible? Edgy? Light? Exotic? Normative? How do I find out which of these vibes people actually get from me when they meet me, no matter what I think it is that I'm putting out? And how do I make sure they won't be misled by the way my materials represent me?

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