The Specialist

I remember it: the office on the 25th floor of a storied Times Square building. Windows facing north, east, and west. A commanding view that signaled something big was happening within these walls. A team of humans to support any need: contracts, budgets, accounting, and, critically, coffee. On the outside, it looked like success. More than just success. Scale, prominence, connection.

But it was a lie. Not to clients, but to myself. Peek behind the curtain, or just look at the monthly P&L, and you’d see a business running on fumes, desperate to sign new clients, saying yes to everything and anything, all to feed a giant machinery of vendors that had nothing to do with why I got into this business to begin with.

The idea was simple: be the business we want to be. Be big to attract big. Sit above Broadway, literally, to attract Broadway clients. Clients equate size with talent, assuming the biggest footprint must be the right one for their show.

Countless other firms perform the same dance, spending big to look big.

And that mirage runs on an unsustainable need to keep signing.

Yes, I do sign and work on Broadway shows. I love the grandness of Broadway, and what it means for New York City and for reaching new audiences. But when I looked at what kinds of clients and projects were reaching out to me most often, and the ones who seemed like they genuinely needed me, it wasn’t the Broadway shows, it was the Off-Broadway projects. Not Off-Off Broadway. Not solo shows. Not limited runs. But producers and shows with grand plans to do something bold Off-Broadway.

Heathers, Drag: The Musical, Rock of Ages, and countless others.

Not Broadway shows shrunken down, but rather ambitious new material meant for the Off-Broadway platform.

This wasn’t the niche I necessarily sought, nor the path that I assumed I would be on when I signed the lease for that Times Square office, but it was the niche that was choosing me.

Since launching KGM I have had the fortune of managing Drag: The Musical, which ran longer than any other Off-Broadway musical in its season, Asi Wind’s Inner Circle and Stalker, two mind-bending magic acts that both boasted sold-out engagements, and Puffs, which ran for three magical years at New World Stages. And more, including Gazillion Bubble Show, Broadway Bounty Hunter and Rolling Thunder.

The launch of these shows in New York has led to, among them: one of the most licensed plays of the last 10 years, open-ended runs in London, millions of cast album streams and post NY revenue that might have eluded them had they attempted Broadway.

I had accidentally cornered a market and learned it better than anyone else.

And here’s the thing I realized: Off-Broadway isn’t Broadway in miniature. It has its own economics, its own capabilities and, surprisingly to those who aren’t accustomed to it, its own traps.

From time to time, I’ve lost business to larger Broadway-first firms. Not to toot my own horn, but I’ve never seen that end well. The year that Drag opened Off-Broadway, we faced steep competition from two other large Off-Broadway musicals opening around the same time, both led by two of the biggest general management firms on Broadway. Both shows closed early.

What did these larger firms have that I didn’t? Fancy offices (paid for from the show’s budget), hoards of junior staffers (who actually perform the work), and walls of Broadway posters.

I’m sure these producers assumed that the fancier firms (or at least those with the fancier offices and junior staffers) would sprinkle their Broadway fairy dust over their Off-Broadway shows. They assumed they would bring resources and scale that would help their smaller shows stand out from the crowd.

But they identified the wrong risk. The real risk isn’t hiring the smaller firm. It’s hiring the larger firm that doesn’t understand how Off-Broadway actually works, learning the world I know but at the show’s expense. Cost overruns that could have been prevented, union rules that don’t translate neatly, relationships that haven’t been nurtured, and missed cost savings.

It’s been a number of years since that office in Times Square. And it’s been roughly a year since I rebuilt KGM around being high touch by design and working more closely with a smaller client pool.

When you come to KGM, you’re hiring me, and nobody knows Off-Broadway better than I do. It’s the niche that the industry wanted for me, and the niche I’m proud to serve. It’s what I do. I’m not the smaller choice. I’m the safer one. I am…the specialist.