Inside Theater's Three-Ring Circus 🎪

Happy Friday 👋🏼 I’ve been quieter online lately. Partly because I’ve been pouring everything I’ve got into All The World’s a Stage. And partly because I’ve been thinking—really thinking—about what I’m building offstage.

What do I want this newsletter to actually do?
What kind of creative work do I want to be known for?
And how can I serve this space in a way that feels genuinely different—not just another actor, another strategist, another brand whisperer?

Because when I look at the way theater (especially marketing) breaks down—what gets flattened, lost, or mistranslated—I keep coming back to the same thing:

Too many people working in silos.
Not enough intentional overlap.

It’s a circus, no doubt.
But maybe there can be some order to the chaos.

Can I show you what I mean?

Under The Big Top

At the center of most theatrical misfires—bland content, muddled messaging, disconnected audiences—isn’t a lack of talent. It’s a lack of connection.

Not between the work and the audience—but between the people inside the process.

Because theater making is a three-ring circus. Each group, each ring, operating with different priorities, different languages, and almost no intentional overlap.

For the sake of this newsletter, we’re looking at how that disconnect shows up in theater marketing specifically—between Approvers, Amplifiers, and Artists.

But these silos exist at every level of creative work. Different labels, same friction. This framework is a way to name those patterns. And maybe more importantly, a way to start shifting them.

So let’s break down each of the rings—and what can happen when they finally begin to touch.

Meet The Players

Again, for the sake of The Fourth Wall—I think it’s helpful to look at theater marketing, specifically. And as I see it, there’s three main rings:

🟠 The Approvers
These are the producers, executives, and investors. The ones who hold the budget, the power, and the final say. They’re tasked with moving quickly, managing risk, and keeping the whole ship afloat—often while answering to investors, stakeholders, or partners. But without real creative context, their decisions can default to what feels familiar. What’s worked before. What’s “safe.” And that instinct, while understandable, often flattens the work before it ever reaches an audience. Which means good ideas get over-polished. And bold ideas get buried.

🟢 The Amplifiers
These are the marketing teams, content strategists, and social media managers. The ones tasked with turning a show’s essence into something that moves—something that resonates in a scroll, a swipe, or a story. They’re not just executional. They’re strategic, creative, deeply aware of what connects. But without early access or real trust, they’re left translating a language they were never taught. They’re handed assets and asked to “make it work,” with limited context and infinite pressure. And when that happens, the message rarely ever lands.

🔴 The Artists
These are the actors, designers, and creative teams. The ones living inside the work. They know the emotional core of the story because they are the story. They feel audience energy in real time. They understand nuance, rhythm, tone—because they’re breathing it every night. But more often than not, they’re brought in last—if at all. Told to post. Told to smile. Rarely told the plan. Which means the most honest, resonant insights never make it to the feed. And the heart of the work stays backstage.

Where The Magic Happens

It’s rare, but when these circles begin to overlap—something shifts.

Suddenly, the people holding the purse strings start to understand the pulse of the piece. The ones crafting the strategy are trusted as creative collaborators. And the artists inside the work are given a mic—not just a megaphone.

These moments of crossover don’t just make the marketing better. They make it truer. More specific. More alive.

When Artists and Amplifiers work together, the emotional core of the show actually makes it into the feed. When Amplifiers and Approvers are aligned, strategy gets sharper—and approved faster. And when Artists and Approvers are in direct dialogue, bold ideas are more likely to make it through the gate.

And in the rarest cases—when all three are in conversation—you get something else entirely. That center zone. The sweet spot. Marketing that reflects the story, the strategy, and the soul of the work.

It doesn’t happen by accident.
It happens by design.

So how do we make that convergence more than a coincidence?

I thought you’d never ask.

How The Sausage Gets Made

These four ingredients are easier said than done. But if we can begin to introduce—and dare I say, implement—them, I genuinely believe they could change how our industry operates.

🧩 Trust as Currency
Approvers need to trust that Artists and Amplifiers can carry the message and tell the story. Amplifiers need to be trusted as creative collaborators, not just executors. And Artists need to trust that their input won’t be diluted, or treated like decoration. Without trust, collaboration becomes control. With it, the circles expand toward each other.

⚙️ Systems That Make Space
We don’t need to work harder. We need to work closer. That means looping people in early—not once the plan is already finalized. It means finding and utilizing tools (Slack, Frame.io, organized Google Sheets) that breakdown bottlenecks. It means bringing Artists into marketing brainstorms, letting social teams into the rehearsal room—not just the Dropbox folder—and replacing approval chains with shared alignment.

🧭 Defining a North Star
Most misalignment comes from assuming everyone’s playing the same game. Artists want emotional resonance. Amplifiers want audience traction. Approvers want sustainable success. It’s about communicating clearly, and early, what success looks like together. When we stop designing in a vacuum we can start creating something that actually connects.

📚 A Shared Language
This is the education piece. The empathy piece. Approvers don’t speak TikTok trends. Amplifiers don’t speak dramaturgy. Artists don’t speak KPIs. The goal isn’t for everyone to master every dialect. It’s to build a working language we can use together. Because when each group understands how the others operate—what they’re navigating, what they’re solving for—it becomes easier to meet in the middle.

☝🏼 One last thing…

This week, All The World’s A Stage officially opened Off-Broadway.

The show is, at its core, about showing up in the world as your truest self. About being honest with the people around you. About choosing love—even when fear is louder.

And that’s what I’ve been trying to do—not just onstage, but here, too.

This is the 16th edition of The Fourth Wall.
Four months of writing. Every single week.

Sometimes from dressing rooms. Sometimes from coffee shops. Always moving. Always searching. Because writing this newsletter has become one of the most reliable ways I know how to take action—especially when things feel hard.

I’m navigating depression. That’s real. Even in this beautiful moment. Even in the glow of my New York debut. Some mornings are heavy. Some days, I feel far away from myself.

But making this—writing, reflecting, reaching out—is a way I come back. It’s how I find my way back to the world again. By sharing what I’m learning. By building something that might be useful to someone else. By stretching my mind toward big questions, little ideas, and new ways of connecting the dots.

So if you feel stuck, or heavy, or uncertain—you can take action, too.
You don’t have to create a newsletter. But you can make something.
Take a drawing lesson on YouTube. Put a puzzle together.
Keep it simple. And build momentum from there.

I’ll be here, doing the same.

See you next week ♥️