Best Year Ever

Every number went up — web visits, email subscribers, social media engagement. Here's what makes it remarkable: The Chrysler Museum of Art was closed for renovations at the time.
 

"He almost single-handedly kept us in the public view"

This is a story for anyone who has ever had to make something out of nothing.

First, click any image to enlage. Second, you can find my full coverage of the Chrysler Museum of Art expansion and renovation here at the Internet Archive.

The assignment here was simple. Keep people interested in something that did not exist. The museum would be closed for 16 months, and we couldn't just go dark and then come back with a big ad campaign. There was no budget for that.

That's why I consider this time frame the best single example of my work as a digital content producer. I simultaneously went behind the scenes and around the world. I did the research, the reporting, the copywriting, the photography, the design and the code. I kept up interest in what the public could not see, and built up enthusiasm for what was to come.

I did it all on immediate deadlines, publishing pretty much daily when including web, social and email. Over 16 months, I shot nearly 28,000 frames and published more than 600 photos. It wasn't a project, it was a story, and I gave it an arc and human emotion. I wound up with more than 30,000 repeat readers.

The quote in the headline comes from our museum director talking about me at a lunch meeting of PR professionals. My favorite kind words came in a note attached to a donation check. A lady from the development office walked over to show it to me.

"I'm really looking forward to seeing the 'new' museum, but I'll miss the blog. It was wonderful."

 

Break the rules. All of them. Every. Single. One.

I have a special section on Chrysler emails, which are part of the story here. I was using social media to promote the blog, and email to promote the blog, and social media to promote email signups.

The emails had been very conventional, promotions based on what was on the calendar. So we started covering exhibitions at nearby institutions, something we'd never done, because it promoted a we're-all-art lovers-here kind of vibe. We started covering the art world in general. We started doing features on past exhibitions since we didn't have any current ones. We harvested all kinds of content from archives.

As the emails grew in length, I added a final section called "Refrigerator Art," a printable work of art with a couple hundred words of accompanying content. It was a way to prove, via clicks, that people were reading to the very end.

Because even here, I'm saving a few good stories for below.

A Beginning, an End, and Sasquatch

The last people to leave the day we closed were a couple celebrating their 41st wedding anniversary. For a picture of when the doors reopened for the first time, well, it never hurts to include the boss.

At the very beginning, all access to construction was barred because contractors didn't want any photos of OSHA violations. I lobbied and turned that on its head — that my being there would keep them on their toes and prevent OSHA violations. I gained complete freedom and access over time.

But one worker turned it on me. He would take off his hard hat, an OSHA violation, whenever I was around just so I couldn't take his picture. "I'm going to be like Sasquatch," he told me. "You'll never get a picture of me."

I made a deal with him to keep him out of trouble. "Keep your hard hat on," I told him. "I'll take one picture of you on your last day here."

On that last day, he dutifully stood in front of me for that final picture. I asked him to turn around.

"You know I can't take a picture of Sasquatch."

Here's his portrait.