Breaking: a concert hall can fit inside an apartmentFounded in New York, 1984One Beethoven stream: 283,000 viewsBreaking: a concert hall can fit inside an apartmentFounded in New York, 1984One Beethoven stream: 283,000 views

Company profile / Media

The Recital That Escaped the Concert Hall

For more than 40 years, Shuman Public Relations has sold attention for an art form that asks people to sit still. Its most revealing campaign began when the concert itself disappeared.

September 21, 20268 min read

In the spring of 2020, the first thing to fail was the room. Pianist Jonathan Biss had been scheduled to play Beethoven at New York's 92nd Street Y. Then the pandemic arrived, the recital was canceled, and the old machinery of classical music - hall, ticket, audience, review - stopped in sequence. Biss still had a piano. He still had the program. What he did not have was a place where those things could become an event.

Shuman Public Relations helped change the container. Biss filmed himself playing in his apartment. The performance went out on Facebook. Promotion turned a domestic recording into an appointment, and the stream drew a reported 283,000 views. For a corner of culture accustomed to counting seats in the low thousands, the number looked faintly indecent.

The business of finding the door

Shuman is a boutique New York publicity firm founded in 1984 by Constance Shuman, after five years running public affairs for Carnegie Hall. Its clients are the people and institutions that make classical music move: soloists, conductors, composers, orchestras, opera companies, festivals, record labels, chamber groups, and the occasional project that refuses a neat label.

The current public roster includes conductors James Conlon and Michael Tilson Thomas; violinist Jennifer Koh; pipa virtuoso Wu Man; bass-baritone Davóne Tines; pianist and author Stephen Hough; the Minnesota Orchestra; Greek National Opera; Wolf Trap; Cedille Records; and the Berliner Philharmoniker's Digital Concert Hall. It is less a client list than a compressed concert season.

The product is not fame in a jar. It is a sequence of smaller judgments: which detail turns a performance into a story, which journalist is likely to care, whether the useful frame is a debut or a homecoming, a world premiere or a decades-long relationship. The firm develops publicity strategy, writes and distributes releases, maintains media kits and contact databases, arranges interviews, coordinates with presenters, runs social posts, edits basic graphics and video, and turns coverage into reports a client can use. Retainers and project fees are the likely commercial plumbing of the model, though the company does not publish a rate card.

The advantage is not having more adjectives. It is knowing which fact can carry the music into another room.

A singer learns the other side of the curtain

Lisa Jaehnig, now managing director, arrived at Shuman more than two decades ago as a part-time assistant while trying to build an opera career. She had sung Musetta in La bohème, Nannetta in Falstaff, and Frasquita in Carmen. Her first publicity client was James Conlon, around the time he was named music director of LA Opera. She still works with him.

Lisa Jaehnig of Shuman Public Relations
The publicist as former performer: Lisa Jaehnig knows exactly how long five minutes feels when the curtain is up.

That biography explains the firm's difference better than a page of agency prose. Classical music contains a library of tacit rules. A publicist must know why a complete Bach cycle means something different from a new concerto, why a conductor appointment can reshape an institution, and why a recording release needs a story that survives after release day. Musical literacy reduces the time spent explaining the product to the people hired to explain the product.

The same pattern appears in the current team. Publicist Tru Pierone trained in vocal performance and performs around Brooklyn and Manhattan. Even the firm's humor is backstage humor: Jaehnig's biography calls Frasquita her favorite role because there are no solos and all the high notes. This is a shop staffed by people who know the glamour and the schlepping.

The operating insightPreserve the occasion. Replace the venue.

When live distribution collapsed, Shuman's successful campaigns did not pretend an apartment was a concert hall. They gave the new format its own reason to gather.

What changed when the stage went dark

Biss's recital was not the firm's only pandemic conversion. Shuman worked on Jennifer Koh's Alone Together, a series of newly commissioned solo pieces streamed from home; a dozen episodes of Wu Man's Pop-Up Pipa; Lara Downes's digital label Rising Sun Music; and Davóne Tines's video VIGIL, dedicated to Breonna Taylor. The common move was not “put it online.” Millions of inert links proved that was not enough. The move was to find a fresh premise for attention.

Jaehnig later said the pandemic opened artists' minds to different ways of working and pushed the agency to do the same. It also made the unromantic side of a small business visible. She handled payroll, tax reports, PPP paperwork, and the shift to a shared cloud workplace. Publicity may end with a byline in a newspaper. It begins with an information system that does not lose the journalist's email.

01 / Keep

The meaning

Protect what makes the event consequential: the repertoire, occasion, artist, or idea.

02 / Change

The container

When the hall fails, rebuild the experience for the channel people can actually reach.

03 / Aim

The invitation

Give audiences a reason to arrive now, not merely a link they might open later.

Where a boutique earns its keep

Shuman sits between artist management, an institution's in-house communications staff, and the press. Management books the career. Presenters sell the seats. Journalists decide what merits attention. The specialist publicist translates among all three without confusing their incentives. A national tour may require coordination with a dozen local presenters. An opera premiere may involve a composer, librettist, singers, company, venue, and funders, each with a legitimate claim on the story. Someone has to find the sentence they can all stand behind.

The alternatives are larger cultural agencies, other classical specialists, a freelance publicist, or an internal team. Shuman's case for itself is accumulated pattern recognition. Its client archive runs from the Metropolitan Opera, Vienna Philharmonic, and San Francisco Symphony to Yuja Wang, Alisa Weilerstein, and the Sphinx Organization. Its recent placement board ranges across The New York Times, NPR, Vogue, the Associated Press, The New Yorker, and trade publications. Relationships help, but relationships without a pitch merely produce polite silence.

This model works best when there is something specific to uncover: a distinctive artist, a genuine premiere, an institutional turn, an argument inside the work. It is less useful when publicity is expected to manufacture importance from an undifferentiated event, or when a client wants direct-response ticket sales more than earned attention. PR can open a door. It cannot make the room interesting.

Forty years in one niche creates a peculiar asset: the ability to tell the difference between a calendar item and a story.

The lesson worth stealing

The copyable part of Shuman's playbook is not its contact list. It is the discipline of keeping the core and changing the vessel. When a launch, performance, or gathering loses its usual channel, begin with the promise people cared about before the disruption. Then design an occasion native to the replacement medium. Name the moment. Coordinate the people who can lend it consequence. Make arrival feel timely.

That is what the apartment recital accomplished. Beethoven remained Beethoven. Biss remained the performer. But the vanished room stopped being merely a loss; it became the fact that made the event worth sharing. A specialist publicist recognized the hinge. The audience walked through.