Every few weeks, the same post appears in my feed. A promoter, a performer, sometimes both: “Where is everyone? Why aren’t people coming out to support live burlesque anymore?”
I’ve been in this scene for years, and I’ve written a version of that post myself. Definitely. So I say this with love, and a bit of fuck it: I think we need to ask a harder question before we blame the people who didn’t show up.
The easy answer is true, but incomplete
Yes, money is tight. Yes, there’s more competition for people’s evenings than ever. Ticket prices, babysitters, train fares and the cost of a round of drinks all add up, and a night out is now a decision, not a habit.
But “audiences aren’t coming out” is a convenient place to stop, because it puts the problem somewhere we can’t fix it. We can’t control the economy. We can control what we put on stage and how we tell people about it.
What an audience actually pays for
When someone buys a ticket, they’re not just paying for entry. They’re paying with their time, their money, their effort getting there, and the one night they’ve set aside this week. They’re trusting you to make it worth it.
I don’t mean more trinkets on a table, a bigger raffle or a free sticker in the goodie bag. Those are nice, but they’re garnish. What audiences want is to be properly entertained.
I once went to a show where three different acts performed to the same song. Different cover versions, admittedly, but still the same song, three times. Nobody in that room was thinking about the artistry of reinterpretation. We were thinking, “Haven’t we done this already?” By the time the 3rd act started there was a collective eye roll.
That’s not a performer problem. It’s a programming problem. Somebody didn’t ask, “What will this night feel like from row three?”
Showmanship is the product
Burlesque has a lot of strengths: humour, glamour, skill, character, rebellion, surprise. The best nights I’ve been to had pacing. They had contrast, a big opener, a comedy turn, something slow and stunning, something that made the room gasp. They had a host who held it all together.
That’s what makes people turn to a friend and say, “You have to come with me next time.” And that word of mouth is worth more than any ad budget.
Let’s talk about the “hobby” mindset
I want to be careful here, because I don’t want to discourage anyone. There’s an important place for new performers. Everyone starts somewhere, and a nervous first act with heart is a joy to watch. Audiences will forgive a wobble. We should be building stages where beginners can grow.
But there’s a difference between nurturing new talent and putting on a show with no thought behind it. And if you’re charging the public for tickets, you’ve stepped from hobby into business, whether you meant to or not.
Some shows are run as vanity projects, and there’s nothing wrong with doing what you love. The issue is what it leaves behind. When an audience walks out feeling they’ve given up their evening and didn’t get a great show, they don’t just skip your next night. They get wary of booking any night. One disappointing show damages trust in all of us.
A note for promoters
This is the section some people might bristle at, so let me be clear that it comes from wanting us all to succeed.
Social media is a skill. It takes consistency, a clear idea of who you’re talking to, good visuals, and a reason for people to care. It isn’t a “we’re struggling, please come” post on Facebook. People rarely buy tickets out of guilt. They buy because they’re excited, curious, or afraid of missing out.
Show people what the night feels like. Introduce the performers. Share clips. Tell them why this line-up is worth their Saturday. Make them want to be in the room.
What I’d ask before the next “where is everyone?” post
- Would I pay full price for this show?
- Would I bring a friend, or someone who’s never seen burlesque before?
- Is there variety in the line-up, or are we repeating ourselves?
- Does the marketing show what’s special about it, or just ask for support?
- Would a stranger leave feeling they got their money’s worth?
If the answer to those is yes, you’ve done your part, and the audience will find you. If not, that’s the thing to fix first.
The good news
All of this is within our control. Burlesque is a brilliant art form, and I believe there’s still an audience hungry for it. It’s our job to give them a reason to show up, and a reason to come back.
