I was up at the Pleasance this afternoon doing an interview for "The Late Edition". It was the first time in the Courtyard this year, which is strange as in the past I have usually spent most of my Edinburgh time here. I had some time to kill once the interview was over and there were quite a few people around and so I decided to do a bit of flyering. I have not used the Avalon flyerers for a couple of years, mainly because they are very expensive and I'd rather have the thousand pounds than the indeterminate number of extra punters that flyering might or might not bring in. Of course even though tickets are about a tenner I would need to shift many more than a 100 extra ones through flyering to make that money back. I personally receive only a proportion of the ticket price after the venue has had its cut and my management has taken 15% of the money left. I then have to pay for all the other expenses (accommodation, PR, print costs, Fringe programme, techicians etc) from what it left. I have never been convinced about how much difference leafletters make anyway. I have estimated that it is not enough to make my thousand pounds back.
I still get the leaflets printed though and usually manage to find someone up here who is happy to do a couple of hours a day every now and again for a much more reasonable sum of money. Usually this person is someone who likes my stuff and that means they are much more likely to engage with people and sell the show. They are also not committed to giving out leaflets for 10 other shows. This seems a more sensible use of resources. Also if I start selling out and don't need to leaflet I don't end up paying someone for unnecessary work. I am an evil and miserly genius. I haven't found anyone this year to do this job (and might be interested if the right applicant makes themselves known to me. Email me on Herring1967@googlemail.com if you're in town and interested in making some pocket money on an irregular basis).
But this afternoon I had some flyers in my bag and nothing much to do and there were people around who were obviously interested in seeing shows, so I thought I might as well spend half an hour doing it myself. After all I am much more able to explain my own show than anybody else. Yet I knew I was crossing a line. You don't see many established performers flyering their own show and indeed many of the people I handed a leaflet to commented on the fact that I was the person in the photo and how unusual that was. Many people did hilarious double-takes as they realised that my face was the same as the face on the picture. Often they wouldn't even look at me and they'd say something like "Oooh look, Richard Herring" as they saw the photo, only for their friend to say "that was actually Richard Herring who gave it to you. You were impressed by a photo and yet failed to notice that the actual face that that photo is just a photo of was right in front of you".
Other people would stop and chat, some of them clearly people who liked my work but who hadn't been aware I was in town, others who has seen the show and were able to give me their thoughts. I didn't feel demeaned or cheap (well not too much - when people asked me why I was doing my own leafletting I would say something along the lines of, "Because I think it is important to engage with my potential audience and getting back to my roots and not getting above myself... and also I am too mean to pay someone else to do it."
Leafletting is one of the hardest, most thankless jobs for anyone to do in Edinburgh and I salute the many young people out there doing it for hours a day, in all weather, whilst living in cramped and unpleasant accommodation. But it seemed to me that by doing 30 minutes myself, homing in on people who were more likely to be my potential audience, I was probably doing more good for sales than a stranger leafletting for four times as long. Avalon leafletters would cost me £1000, which is about £40 a day. So if I do it myself I am effectively paying myself an hourly rate of about £80. I may have my own show on Radio 2, but that kind of money is not to be sniffed at. If I do an eight hour day I'd be making £640 every day. Keep that up for an entire month and I could forget about actually doing my show and just live off the profits of leafletting for it. I am a genius.
Anyway, I think I am going to try and do more leafletting myself, probably not every day and certainly not if it's raining (and not if I start selling out - it's not that much fun). But I enjoyed it today and I think it's good to remind yourself of the grass roots level of this Fringe(in what admittedly is quite a patronising way - like a public school boy visiting the third world and feeling at one with the people there, knowing he is going back home to his big house at the end of the holiday).
I don't know if my 30 minutes of toil made any difference to numbers tonight. I was happy enough that about 100 people turned up for what should hopefully be the quietest night of the Fringe. It augurs well. As does the fact that I haven't yet had a duff performance. Yesterday I got a bit fluffy (in that I garbled a few sentences, I did not become like a cuddly toy), but aside from that I have been pleased with how I've done the show. I have been enjoying it and messing around and I think from the comments that I am getting that this spirit is quite infectious and makes for an entertaining hour.
I got my first review in the Evening News. It's a slightly disappointing three stars, made more galling by the fact that the journalist sent me the full unedited version of the piece before I saw what was in the paper and it read much more like a solid four star (both versions up in the Press Section - scroll down if necessary, though the section is about to be revamped for easier viewing), but significantly I took this very slight setback on the chin and it didn't upset me at all. Maybe partly because I had seen the full version first.
I saw my first show of the Fringe tonight,
La Clique. In fact I only saw half of it as I had to rush off to do Late n Live (failed to be eaten alive despite the dire predictions of "steve, england" - it went fine). But I loved the double jointed rubber man who managed to squeeze himself through two tennis racquets (without strings fortunately for him). Not only a spectacular and freakish skill to have, but he was also a highly amusing performer who had his slapstick schtick beautifull perfected. I just love the fact that that is his job, in the same way as I suppose I love the fact that I can make a living from telling jokes about monkey semen. It is somehow so wrong and so right at the same time. The show is terrifically popular and I am sure it will have sold out entirely by now already, but it was a wonderful diversion and I wished I could have stayed for the whole thing. I must go and see some other stuff now everything is settling down.
