I’d like to show you how this experience has helped me think differently about PR in ways I couldn’t have anticipated volunteering for the Candlelight Concert Series, the enchanting live concerts where every surface shines with flickering candlelight. Picture this: An antique building transformed into a sea of candles, golden light bouncing off cello strings or piano keys as a musician plays an atmospheric rendition of a modern song. My role? Helping to establish that sensory environment. Here’s the twist: As a volunteer, I wasn’t merely arranging candles or seating guests I was part of a team building a brand experience. Every single detail, from where the flames were placed to when the lights went down, was intentional. It taught me that PR isn’t so much about words; it’s about building moments that linger.
Okay, let’s cut to the chase. Ever tried to arrange a candlelit space for 200 people? One random blast of air, and you’re instantly playing Jenga with tealights! But in those moments, I found myself practicing crisis communication… with candles. When a gust could blow out half the lights in the room, we covered by pushing delicate setups aside and speaking very calmly with visitors so as not to panic anyone. It was a moment of instant flexibility turning a potential disaster into a vibrant tale of the evening.
This was where PR theory became real: Before the concert, I helped promote it on social media. Instead of simply posting ‘Come to this event! ‘, we focused on sensory storytelling. I wrote captions such as ‘the glow of live strings against candlelight’ or ‘the thrill of hearing your favorite song reimagined in dancing shadows.’ We weren’t selling tickets; we were selling a feeling. That’s when I understood how wonderful sensory details are at building brand identity something we’ve learned about in class, but to see it happen in real life?
Magic. And then there’s the emotional. I, as a volunteer, spoke to the patrons during intermission. One couple informed me that they’d chosen the concert as their anniversary date because the candlelight was reminiscent of their first date. Another patron described how the ambiance calmed them after a frustrating week. These conversations educated me in audience segmentation in practice the same event was a romantic gesture, self-calming, or music aficionado sanctuary.
It emphasized the need to craft messages that resonate on multiple levels.
And don’t forget the cooperation! Coordinating with event staff, the musicians, and Fever organizers was a masterclass in stakeholder management. When the pianist required last-minute lighting adjustments to accommodate the ambiance of a Chopin etude, I had to negotiate with the technical crew without disrupting the timeline. It was like live editing a schedule stricken press release except with candle wax on your fingers!
And so why do I call this my wild card? Because, it showed me that PR is not so much about spinning tales it’s about crafting environments where stories get to occur. Those candles were not just aesthetics; they were subtle messengers, creating how people felt about the music, the room, and each other. From here on out, I want to bring that same intentionality to campaigns whether I’m working with actual candlelight or metaphorical ‘sparks’ that ignite the fires of connection. In a nutshell: If there’s one thing I’m taking away from the Candlelight Concerts, it’s that the best communication doesn’t always come in shouting and screaming. Sometimes, it’s a glimmer of light that makes a person lean in just a little bit harder. And that’s the kind of peaceful, powerful PR that I’m here to learn and create. Thanks for listening to my spark!”