The Studio Source.com

Image by Jason Hollinger

There’s an email in circulation. One of those slightly shrill messages that proclaim, “This is a true story!”

Usually they’re not true, and usually they contain a punch line with any combination of multiple exclamation marks, all caps, or a massive increase in point size, as if the emphasis makes up for the poor writing (not that I have an opinion or anything).

Often those emails are nothing but urban legends. This time, though, the story is true. The original version won a Pulitzer prize for Feature Writing, written by Gene Weingarten and published in the Washington Post (click here to read the full story). It was published almost four years ago, but since it’s making the rounds—and since the email got my hackles up—it’s worth a look from a marketing perspective.

The story—virtuoso incognito
Internationally renowned violinist Joshua Bell agreed to play his 18th Century Stradivarius violin (valued at $3.5 million) in a Washington, DC, subway station. He wore jeans, a t-shirt, and ball cap. Approximately 1,100 people passed him during the morning rush hour. Bell played classical masterpieces for the passing crowd, most of them civil servants.

The impromptu performance was arranged by the Washington Post as “an experiment in context, perception and priorities—as well as an unblinking assessment of public taste: In a banal setting at an inconvenient time, would beauty transcend?”

You can imagine what happened.

Philosophy in marketing—set the stage
Weingarten draws to our attention the words of the German philosopher Immanuel Kant, who said to appreciate beauty, optimal conditions are required.

This is where the marketing monster that sits on my shoulder started jumping up and down, and where I depart from the Washington Post feature to focus on how Bell’s subway performance applies to how you showcase your work.

Kant was right on the money. I don’t pretend for a minute to measure up to his genius, but here’s my take on the experiment.

Lesson #1. Market like you mean it.
People are busy. Lives are complicated. Marketing must be grounded in how things are, not how you want them to be.

The world would be a wonderful place if everyone stopped in their tracks at the sound of beautiful music, no matter where it was played. But the reality is we have crowded lives. We’re overloaded with information, and it seems there are more people and businesses vying for our attention every day.

We have to filter some of that information out just to stay sane.

A little anecdote: I once walked within a few feet of an attractive, well-dressed blond man, twice within a few minutes. I only saw him in profile, but something tugged at the back of my mind. I dismissed the half-formed thought.

The following day while I was at work, a radio announcer reported that Sting and his partner Trudie Styler had to make an emergency stop in the city while they were travelling, because she had fallen ill.

Fortunately, no customers were in the store when I had my outburst in the middle of folding the Levi’s.

I did not recognize him when I saw him at the hospital. At the time of the encounter, I was in the death throes of a terrible relationship and I had been visiting a friend of my mother’s, who just had a hysterectomy. Rock stars weren’t exactly drifting through my consciousness.

Lesson #2. Strong visual associations make it easy for your customers to remember you. Use them consistently and use them well.
How likely would it be for Joshua Bell’s fans to recognize him in a t-shirt and ball cap? In my opinion, not very. People often look different in person than they do in photographs. One person did recognize him, a woman who had seen him live in concert three weeks before his appearance in the subway.

Here’s another real-life example that further illustrates the point: I wear a cap, with my hair up, when I walk my dogs. I meet a few people on our trail fairly regularly. Occasionally, I’ll bump into one of them in the city. My hair is down, I don’t have the dogs, and these people do not recognize me, not even when I begin speaking. I’m not a celebrity they only see at a distance, I’ve looked these people in the eye and had conversations with them. Would they know me if my appearance was the same? Maybe. If I had one or both of the dogs? That’s far more likely.

In this context, the dogs are my brand. If you’d like to extend the metaphor, they’re the company logo. When I change my appearance, the ability for people to recognize me drops drastically.

Associations are important—be true to your brand.

Lesson #3. Understand customer expectations.
Take a walk in your customer’s shoes. Try to see yourself and your business the way they see you.

Who expects to see a virtuoso violinist performing in a subway? What would you think if you saw a musician in that context? I’d think it was a busker, possibly a music student making some extra cash. I might be dead wrong, but there are plenty of buskers where I live, so it’s a logical conclusion.

Lesson #4. Your customers aren’t always experts
Hands up: how many of you would recognize the sound of a Stradivarius violin in a crowded subway? How many of you could do that in a concert hall?

Don’t expect every customer to be an expert in your medium. Many of them won’t be. Take advantage of the opportunity to let them know what you’re about. Tell them interesting things. People love to share stories. Give them something to talk about.

Lesson #5. Context matters
The lesson here is simple: if you present yourself like a busker, people will believe you are one.

I’ve walked past booths at high-end craft shows because of a poor display. Bad lighting, low tables, or a sulky exhibitor. I’ve clicked away from poorly-designed websites without even looking at the content.

I once said to a friend, “Don’t expect me to care about your work if you don’t.” (I was referring to the people I just mentioned, not criticizing her). That statement is harsh and ungracious, but it’s the dead honest truth.

Show your work the respect it deserves.

Lesson #6. Don’t expect your customers to just find you—marketing is your responsibility.
Imagine the crowd that would gather to see a free concert—not in a concert hall, but in a public space—by Joshua Bell if it was promoted. People who weren’t classical music fans would  likely go just out of curiosity, or to get a glimpse of that spectacular violin.

The result of Bell’s busking in the subway? $32.17, including the $20 left by the woman who recognized him.

Bonus lesson: good writing matters.
Multiple exclamation marks, all caps, or large print in website copy or a newsletter has a certain desperation about it. Save your large print for headlines and leave big exclamations to the comic book writers. (If you read the Washington Post feature, they use all caps—but I suspect it’s due to a straight copy and paste from their nicely formatted print version of the story.)

What do you think? Do you stop to listen to music? Have you ever walked past a famous person? Are there more lessons in this story?