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Hermès, which famously claims it doesn’t do marketing, is conducting a masterclass in understated luxury brand building in Los Angeles this week. Presenting a theatrical production as “a poetic and cinematic performance”, the Parisian luxury giant is applying the same rules to this artistic event that it does to its products — beauty and whimsy backed up by a healthy dose of scarcity.
There were no billboards lining LA streets of the sort that Celine used to promote its rock-n-roll show at the Wiltern Theatre last December. Yet, On the Wings of Hermès — an hour-long theatrical production by the Belgian film director Jaco Van Dormael and his partner, the choreographer Michèle Anne de Mey — appeared to be fully booked before the first showing.
The first sign that this is no typical theatrical performance is the price, which is measured in access, not cash. The roughly 5,000 tickets are free of charge, but can only be obtained by invitation, or by those who knew to go to Hermès.com/Wings. General admission guests were mainly clients who learned about it from the stores they frequent in Los Angeles, or others who learned by word of mouth, the company says.
Hermès is all about the discretely unavailable. The Parisian luxury giant, which reported €11.6 billion in 2022 revenues, up 29 per cent over 2021, keeps consumers hungry by never fully sating their desires. It claims, for instance, that it is unable to increase production of its famous Birkin bags, possibly the most coveted products in its vast lines (and likely to become even more so following the death of the actress that inspired them, Jane Birkin).
Its strategy to sell Birkins famously hangs on a manner of pricing that far exceeds the amount printed on the price tag. Though Hermès routinely denies this is a strategy, its customers are keenly aware that obtaining a rare Birkin often requires that they make a multitude of prior purchases of silk scarves, enamel bangles and other Hermès products.
Building ties between fashion brands and the arts is becoming an increasingly popular strategy to elevate and reach new audiences with overlapping interests. Dries van Noten’s Los Angeles store has an active gallery that frequently hosts art shows. Brands including Hermès, Louis Vuitton and Rimowa often showcase their craftsmanship with travelling public events and exhibitions that focus on their most iconic products.
On the Wings of Hermès, though, is pure theatre — with the only reference to products being their use as props in the scenes. The viewer is left to deduce the relationship between the theatrical production and the brand behind it. A quote on the website from Hermès artistic director Pierre-Alexis Dumas reads: “This work metaphorically illustrates the lightness that is omnipresent at Hermès: in the delicate hands of our craftsmen sewing with two needles at once; in the elegance of materials, and in the subtle notes of a perfume. It is an experience which sparks the imagination, designed by artisans of dreams.”
Hence, the Los Angeles performance this week is another rare Hermès product, focused on one of America’s richest markets for luxury consumers — where Hermès maintains three stores. There are no plans, as of now, to take it to other cities, the company says, though they would not rule out the possibility.
The production is billed as “an imaginary tale” of seven dream-like scenes that evolve around Pegasus, an apt reference to Hermès’s horsey origins (the house began life as a maker of harnesses and saddles for horses, before branching out into leather goods). The audience moves from scene to scene in a vast aeroplane hangar in Santa Monica, along with the performers and the director, Van Dormael, who begins each scene in French with a softly spoken, “Noir! Action!”
Then a camera focuses on a scene in miniature that is then projected onto a larger screen above, with literal sleights of hand creating something on-screen that doesn’t exist in the miniature. One scene is turned upside down to create the appearance of zero gravity. In another dreamlike sequence, a dancer’s hand performs pirouettes on an icy pond. Another scene is re-wound to play backwards as though it is forwards. It’s all mesmerising and other-worldly.
Fashion stylist and commentator Joe Zee pondered the strategy after the performance concluded. “I wonder how they pitched this,” he wondered aloud, imagining the event’s origins in some minimalist corporate conference room.
“Sometimes, you don’t have to have marketing 101 goals,” Zee said. “It’s interesting that they can deliver something that doesn’t seem commercial.”
In keeping with the company’s no-marketing approach to marketing, a Hermès executive, speaking on background, insisted there is “no business strategy at all” to the production. Yet, strewn throughout the scenes were every manner of Hermès product — teacups, furniture, silk scarves, fragrance, handbags. In one audience favourite, four pastel-coloured Kelly bags danced and sang (manipulated by invisible hands) on a stage, the largest voicing the bass. An Hermès representative later explained, with a smile, that the dancing-singing bags won’t be produced.
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