Why You Want To Go Front Row with JoziStyle

I’ll be shooting across to the Teatro at Montecasino because I’m spending the evening with Jonathan Roxmouth, sharing his favourite Broadway songs. And yes, we’re going #FrontRowJoziStyle.

You know, the last time I went to the theatre, I got stuck right in the back row. Not just any back row – the peasant back row. The kind they had in Shakespearean times where they allowed chickens and pigs in, just to keep them warm.

I once sat midway between front row and far-back-peasant row and I thought: never again. You could barely see the stage. And I’m the kind of person who likes to see their shoes. I’m very judgmental about shoes. If I go to the ballet, I want to see ballet shoes – clean and matching. Even at stand-up comedy, I like to see the artist. I want to see the face.

When I first started attending theatre in a media capacity, I was very selective. Driving into Joburg CBD is sometimes intimidating – no lights, more JMPD than streetlamps, and potholes bigger than my car. I didn’t want to go unless the show was worth it. But once I started featuring theatre on the JoziStyle Show on Radio Today, I started going more often – and one thing I always appreciated was good seats.

Publicists quickly learned that I have very long legs. Not chunky rugby-player legs, but long, elegant legs. So they’d give me aisle seats, which I appreciated – until I discovered the joy of the front row.

It happened at a Beatlemania tribute show at Emperor’s Palace. Someone had taken my tickets (this used to happen often). They’d say, “I’m Edward,” and take the envelope with the best seats. So, the publicist, apologetically, gave me front-row tickets. And I said: I’ll take them.

As we walked in, I saw all the other media people, glasses sparkling under spotlights, staring down in envy. And I turned to my husband and whispered, “There’s a wave of FOMO rolling down the theatre right now.”

Later, during intermission, people came up to us: “How did you get front row tickets?”
My answer? “I’m JoziStyle, of course.”

From then on, I was hooked. The front row became my thing.

It became so synonymous with JoziStyle that publicists started requesting “Front Row JoziStyle” promotions. I’d say, “Sure, with pleasure!” – as long as it wasn’t a juggling act with fire or something serious that doesn’t work from that close up.

Soon, I was booking the entire front row before theatres even announced the shows. That way, nobody else could buy front row seats. It created buzz. And it worked.

Publicists told me they noticed something fascinating:

“Since #FrontRowJoziStyle, people start buying tickets from the front row going backward – not the middle-middle anymore.”

Even media started taking note. Some begged to be in the front row with me. Others didn’t want to be part of it at all:

“I’m a serious critic, I don’t want people to see me laughing.”
Then they’d write scathing reviews – after laughing their heads off during the show.

But whether you’re a critic or just a fan:
Once you’ve gone #FrontRowJoziStyle, you never go back.