Before Amanda Palmer became a well-known musician, she had a rather unconventional job. For about five years after finishing her studies at a liberal arts university, she worked as a living statue known as the “8-foot bride.” This unique job involved painting herself white, standing on a box, and offering flowers to those who dropped money into her hat. This experience was more than just a job; it was a way to connect deeply with people, especially those who seemed lonely. Despite occasional harassment from passersby, Amanda found this work to be unexpectedly rewarding and a precursor to her future in music.
During this time, Amanda was also performing with her band, the Dresden Dolls, in local nightclubs. She played the piano and wrote songs, while her drummer added incredible talent to their performances. As the band gained popularity, Amanda was able to leave her statue job and focus entirely on music. However, she wanted to maintain the direct connection with people that she had experienced as a living statue.
After their shows, Amanda and her band would engage with fans by signing autographs, hugging them, and having conversations. They actively sought help and involvement from their audience, inviting local musicians and artists to perform outside their shows. This approach created a unique and rotating lineup of guests, enhancing the concert experience.
The advent of Twitter further revolutionized Amanda’s ability to connect with her audience. She could instantly reach out for help, whether it was finding a piano to practice on or receiving home-cooked meals from fans. This digital platform allowed for spontaneous and meaningful interactions.
Amanda’s experiences with couch-surfing and crowd-surfing highlighted the importance of trust. She often stayed with fans, sharing their homes and lives. One memorable experience involved staying with an 18-year-old girl and her family in Miami, who graciously offered their beds and taught Amanda how to make tortillas. These interactions underscored the mutual appreciation between Amanda and her supporters.
Despite the success of her band, Amanda faced challenges with her record label. When their album sold 25,000 copies in the first few weeks, the label deemed it a failure. This prompted Amanda to rethink her approach to music distribution. She began giving away her music for free online, encouraging fans to share it. This decision led her to crowdfunding, where she asked her fans for support for her next project with The Grand Theft Orchestra. The response was overwhelming, raising nearly $1.2 million, the largest music crowdfunding project at that time.
Amanda’s success with crowdfunding sparked media curiosity about how she managed to get people to pay for music in a struggling industry. Her answer was simple: she asked. By building genuine connections with her audience, Amanda found that people were willing to help. This approach challenged traditional notions of music sales and highlighted the power of vulnerability and trust.
Despite facing criticism for her crowdsourcing practices, Amanda remained committed to her philosophy of fair exchange. She believed that musicians should be community connectors, not distant stars. The internet allowed for closer connections, fostering a sense of community and support.
The idea of no fixed price for music may seem risky to some, but Amanda viewed it as an opportunity to build trust. Her music career focused on connecting with people online, sharing not just her music but also her life and struggles. By truly seeing each other, Amanda believed that people naturally wanted to help one another.
Instead of asking how to make people pay for music, Amanda encouraged us to consider how to let people pay for music. This shift in perspective emphasizes the importance of connection, trust, and the art of asking.
Imagine yourself as a living statue like Amanda Palmer. Spend 30 minutes in a public space on campus, remaining still and interacting with passersby only through non-verbal communication. Reflect on how this experience makes you feel and what it teaches you about human connection and vulnerability. Share your insights with the class.
In small groups, discuss the concept of asking for help and how it applies to your personal and academic life. Consider the barriers that prevent people from asking and how trust plays a role in overcoming these barriers. Present your group’s findings to the class, highlighting key takeaways.
Use a social media platform to reach out to your peers or a wider audience with a request for help or collaboration on a project. Document the responses and interactions you receive. Analyze how digital platforms can facilitate meaningful connections and share your experience in a class presentation.
Examine Amanda Palmer’s crowdfunding campaign for The Grand Theft Orchestra. Analyze the strategies she used to engage her audience and the role of trust in her success. Write a report on how these strategies can be applied to other industries or personal projects.
Participate in a workshop where you brainstorm and develop new models for valuing and distributing creative work. Consider how trust and community can be integrated into these models. Present your innovative ideas to the class, focusing on how they challenge traditional industry norms.
Sure! Here’s a sanitized version of the transcript:
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[Music][Applause]
I didn’t always make my living from music. For about five years after graduating from a liberal arts university, I was a self-employed living statue called the 8-foot bride. I loved telling people about this job because everyone was curious about who these performers are in real life.
I painted myself white, stood on a box, and placed a hat at my feet. When someone dropped in money, I handed them a flower and made intense eye contact. If they didn’t take the flower, I would gesture with sadness as they walked away.
I had profound encounters with people, especially those who seemed lonely and hadn’t talked to anyone in weeks. We would share beautiful moments of prolonged eye contact, and it felt like we were connecting deeply. Sometimes, I would get harassed by people yelling from their cars, telling me to get a job, and I would respond that this was my job. It hurt because it made me feel like I was doing something unfair or shameful.
I had no idea how valuable this experience was for my future in the music business. Surprisingly, I made a predictable income—about $60 on Tuesdays and $90 on Fridays—despite having no regular customers. Meanwhile, I was also touring locally and playing in nightclubs with my band, the Dresden Dolls. I wrote the songs and played piano, while my drummer was incredibly talented. Eventually, we made enough money for me to quit being a statue.
As we started touring, I wanted to maintain that direct connection with people. After shows, we would sign autographs, hug fans, and talk to them. We made it a point to ask people for help and to join us. I would find local musicians and artists to perform outside our shows, creating a rotating lineup of unique guests.
Then Twitter came along, making things even more magical. I could instantly ask for anything, anywhere. If I needed a piano to practice on, I could be at a fan’s house within an hour. Fans would bring us home-cooked meals backstage, and I loved this random closeness.
One time, my crew and I couch-surfed in a poor neighborhood in Miami. Our host was an 18-year-old girl living with her undocumented immigrant family. They gave us their beds while they took the couches. In the morning, her mother taught us how to make tortillas and expressed gratitude for our music’s impact on her daughter.
A couple of months later, I found myself in Manhattan, ringing a doorbell at midnight for a place to stay. I realized I had never done this alone before, and I felt a moment of fear. But when the door opened, I was welcomed by an artist and a financial blogger, and they offered me a glass of wine and a bath.
I couch-surf a lot, and I also crowd-surf. I see couch-surfing and crowd-surfing as similar experiences of trust. I once asked an opening band if they wanted to go out into the crowd and pass the hat for extra money. They were excited, but one member hesitated, feeling it was too much like begging.
As my band grew, we signed with a major label, and our music—a mix of punk and cabaret—wasn’t for everyone. Our next record sold about 25,000 copies in the first few weeks, but the label considered it a failure. I was surprised because I thought 25,000 was a lot.
After a gig, a fan handed me a $10 bill, saying they burned my CD from a friend and wanted to support me. This started happening frequently, and I realized I was becoming the one asking for help after my own gigs. This led me to decide to give away my music for free online and encourage sharing.
I fought my way off my label and turned to crowdfunding for my next project with my new band, The Grand Theft Orchestra. I asked my fans for support, setting a goal of $100,000, and they backed me with nearly $1.2 million, the largest music crowdfunding project at that time.
The media questioned how I managed to get people to pay for music when the industry was struggling. The truth is, I didn’t make them pay; I asked them. Through asking, I connected with my audience, and when you connect with people, they want to help.
Many artists struggle with asking for help because it makes them feel vulnerable. After my Kickstarter success, I faced criticism for my crowdsourcing practices, particularly for inviting musicians to join us on stage in exchange for love and tickets.
This experience reminded me of the people yelling from their cars, unable to see the fair exchange happening between me and my audience. At a Kickstarter backer party in Berlin, I even let attendees draw on me, which was a unique way to build trust.
Historically, musicians have been community connectors, not untouchable stars. The internet allows for closer connections, and it’s about a few people loving you up close.
Many people are confused by the idea of no fixed price for music, seeing it as a risk. However, I view my experiences as trust-building. The online tools are improving, but we need to face each other and give and receive without fear.
My music career has focused on connecting with people online, sharing not just about my music but also about our lives and struggles. When we truly see each other, we want to help one another.
Instead of asking how to make people pay for music, we should ask how to let people pay for music. Thank you.
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Music – The art or science of combining vocal or instrumental sounds to produce beauty of form, harmony, and expression of emotion. – The music department hosted a concert showcasing the diverse talents of its students.
Performance – The act of presenting a play, concert, or other form of entertainment. – Her performance in the university’s annual musical was met with a standing ovation.
Connection – A relationship in which a person, thing, or idea is linked or associated with something else, often enhancing the experience of art or music. – The connection between the conductor and the orchestra was palpable, resulting in a breathtaking symphony.
Trust – Reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, or character of a performer or ensemble, crucial for successful collaboration in the arts. – Trust between the actors was evident, allowing for a seamless and dynamic stage performance.
Crowdfunding – The practice of funding a project or venture by raising small amounts of money from a large number of people, typically via the Internet, often used by artists to finance their work. – The band successfully used crowdfunding to produce their debut album, engaging their audience in the creative process.
Audience – The assembled spectators or listeners at a public event such as a play, movie, concert, or meeting. – The audience was captivated by the dancer’s graceful movements and expressive storytelling.
Musicians – Individuals who play musical instruments or are musically talented, often performing in ensembles or as solo artists. – The musicians collaborated to create a unique fusion of classical and contemporary sounds.
Art – The expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power. – The art installation in the theater lobby set the tone for the evening’s performance.
Industry – The people or companies engaged in a particular kind of commercial enterprise, such as the music or entertainment industry. – Networking events are crucial for students looking to break into the music industry.
Vulnerability – The quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally, often embraced by artists to convey authenticity in their work. – The singer’s vulnerability on stage resonated with the audience, creating a powerful and emotional experience.
