Mona Lisa Marketing đš
Stop playing it safe, silly gooseđȘż
Good afternoon đđŒ A few weeks ago I read a blogpost by Seth Godin about Mona Lisa, and it got my wheels turning.
It wasnât really about art or Leo DaVinci. It was about timing. And risk. And what happens when culture meets a moment.
Thereâs a conversation I keep having with shows, producers, and creatives: how do we make content ahead of the trend curve?
Godin calls this âThe Mona Lisa Problemââwhen we try to recreate cultural impact by focusing on the thing, instead of the moment.
Chasing trends instead of creating them.
Hoping for buzz instead of earning attention.
Playing it safe and wondering why nothing is clicking.
The answer: The Frame Rule.
You canât frame something that hasnât been painted.
You donât create the moment. You create the work.
And maybe thatâs the whole point.
We keep creating, taking risks, making something that might not land right awayâso that when culture comes knocking, thereâs something already on the wall.
So where do we start?
Our girl Mona might have some ideas.

The Mona Moment

the mustaches are serving
The Mona Lisa wasnât Leonardoâs masterpiece.
Not at the time, anyway.
He didnât paint it for a patron. It didnât hang in a palace.
It wasnât even that well known.
Just a quiet little portrait of a woman with no crown, no jewelry, no clear identity.
Not a saint or a queenâjust some girl with a weird smile and no eyebrows.
Leonardo kept her close. Took her with him. Tweaked it over and over.
It wasnât normal. It wasnât popular. It was justâŠhis.
Then in 1911, someone lifted the painting right off the wall of the Louvre.
And suddenly, the world noticed.
Newspapers were exploding at the time. Color printing was just becoming widespread. And suddenly, this quiet painting became a cultural headline. A mystery. A meme. A phenomenon.
The moment arrivedâunexpected, unpredictable, unplanned.
And Mona was already hanging on the wall.
(Well, technically, sheâd just been stolen off it.)
So if we canât predict the moment⊠maybe we should start talking about what it takes to be ready for one.

Risky Business

get it?
Letâs be clear: breaking the mold doesnât mean chaos.
It doesnât mean abandoning strategy.
Risk means putting a stake in the ground.
It means having a point of viewâand being willing to flop, in public. (Spooky!)
Most shows donât struggle because they took too many risks.
They struggle because they didnât take any.
They make beautiful work, and then wrap it in content so polished and predictable, it becomes invisible.
Itâs easy to call a show âboldâ in the press release.
Itâs a lot harder to let that boldness show up in the feed.
Hereâs two posts from two very different shows.
Which one feels riskier? Which one would actually make you stop scrolling?
Of course, risk will look different for every brand.
But this isnât about formulasâitâs about feeling.
And we know the difference when we see it.
So maybe the question isnât whatâs working right now?
Maybe itâs: what are we afraid to try?

The Frame Rule

okay BOB
Most shows are busy trying to replicate whatâs already hanging on the wallâsame formats, same ideas, same safe choices. But by the time somethingâs been framed, itâs already over. Itâs already history.
So whatâs our job?
Enter: The Frame Rule.
You canât frame something that hasnât been painted.
The work, then, isnât to make something perfect. Or viral.
The work is to make something.
To keep creating. To take risks. To push past the edge of what feels comfortable.
Itâs a perspective shift.
Zooming out wide enough to see that our body of work is made up of smaller, risk-filled experiments that eventually tell a bigger story.
Which, letâs be real, is what we end up calling our âbrand.â
So we keep going. Keep making. Keep shifting.
Because hereâs the truth about cultural moments:
We donât get to choose what gets remembered.
We donât decide what gets framed.
But we do decide whether weâre making anything at all.
When culture came knocking, the Mona Lisa was already there.
(Or, technically, gone.)
So make something.
And it might as well be daring, interesting, or different.
Because the work youâre making today might be what the world is ready for tomorrow.

âđŒ One last thingâŠ
Weâre in previews for ALL THE WORLDâS A STAGE, which basically means: weâre building the plane while flying it. In front of 100 people. Every night.
We rehearse during the dayârestaging moments, adjusting lighting, rewriting beats. And then we test those changes in real time, onstage, with an audience watching. Sometimes it clicks. Sometimes it absolutely does not. And then we do it all again the next day.
Itâs vulnerable. Itâs messy. Itâs thrilling.
Because this isnât just about polishing. Itâs about discovering. Weâre still shaping the show. Weâre still figuring out what it wants to be. And that means we have to take big swings. Which is scary. But also? Kind of magic?
Thereâs no way to know what works unless we try. So we try. We play. We reflect. We revise.
I also just need to say: itâs been wild and weird and wonderful to share this part of myselfâthe actor partâwith people in New York whoâve only ever known me in other roles. Iâve been in the city for 10 years and have existed in so many different spaces, and to finally be seen by so many of my friends and former colleagues, in this way, is deeply moving to me. Itâs a moment I always hoped would come, and itâs unfolding completely differently, and far more beautifully, than I ever imagined.
If youâre in New York, I do hope youâll come see us. Because the show is sweet and timely and only 90 minutes(!!) And Iâd love meeting Fourth Wallers in-person đ„°
Iâm sending big love to you all.
See you next week!
