An Audience of None

Whomever you're performing for, make it count

Stańczyk by Jan Matejko, (public domain - Wikipedia)

“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players” — William Shakespeare, 1599

There’s a little-seen movie — a remake of a golden-era Hollywood film from 1942 —that is a goofy favorite for me.

It’s To Be or Not To Be, Mel Brooks’ 1983 remake of the Jack Benny original. I recall seeing it when it first came out, then later on VHS. It rarely airs anymore, and is only available on streaming services with a subscription.

The over-the-top performance by Charles Durning, the back and forth between the real husband and wife team of Brooks and Anne Bancroft, and the repeated “we’re world-famous…in Poland” line always stuck with me, forcing me to stop on any channel that happens to be airing it.

Brooks played Frederick Bronski, a theatre owner and Polish ham of an actor. When he recites the famous soliloquy, an airman in the audience rises and makes his way backstage for a rendezvous with Bronski’s wife Anna. The love triangle is interrupted when the Nazis storm Warsaw and commandeer the theatre and the Bronski household.

I’ve found one scene especially touching. When Bronski faces off against the S.S. officers by impersonating a double-agent, he returns to a shabby apartment, exhausted but triumphant. He’s alone, with no one to share his victory. As he collapses in the chair and loosens his tie, he sighs, “Tonight, I gave the greatest performance of my career. And there was no one there to see it.”

I was reminded of this scene yesterday, as a client launched a project that I helped develop and execute over the past six weeks. It’s a podcast for their employees, available only on their internal servers.

My main client and his boss (the chief communications officer) are thrilled with the work. It’s safe to say it exceeded their expectations. And I’m thrilled to make them look like heroes to their company.

I realized I feel like Bronski that night. I’m so proud of the performance and I’d love to share it with everyone and shout it from the rooftops, but this is for a limited audience.

More episodes are in production, and the stories we’re creating are structured in a way that they could work externally as well. We’ll have to see what kind of response they get.

But in reflecting on all of the above, I realized that this is the kind of ethic I bring to my work. It’s the way I was raised. “You should be able to sign your name to whatever you do,” my mom always told me. It means taking pride in everything I did, leaving nothing to chance.

I’ve had speaking engagements when I was prepared for large audiences, but was greeted with as few as five people. They expected a certain level of presentation, and I knew I couldn’t disappoint them, even though inside, I was devastated and mortified.

But here’s the thing: each member of an audience, whether it’s five people or five thousand, expects something from you, and it’s up to you to deliver on that promise. To any single member of the audience, you’re speaking directly to them. You’re telling a story or sharing a perspective that can make them think, feel or act differently about something.

This is one of the reasons I’m a podcast practitioner. Audio is one of the most intimate ways you can connect with other humans. Your message is going directly into their ears. It’s one of the reasons I loathe any piece of content (audio or video) that begins with “Hey everybody!” or—even worse— “Hi guys!”

Yes, I’m nitpicking. But again — I take pride in my work. I know saying “I’m glad you’re here” can have a much more dramatic effect than the generic “Hi guys!”

Know your audience. Speak to them accordingly.

When you’re nervous before a public presentation, some people will tell you to imagine the audience in their underwear. That’s supposed to lessen your anxiety. I have never been nervous when speaking before an audience, so I can’t tell you if that works or not.

What I can tell you is this: don’t think of the audience at all. Think of one person. It doesn’t matter who it is — your mom, your partner, someone in the front row — just think of a single person. And talk as if you’re speaking directly to that person.

An audience of one can be captivating.

There’s so much to learn,