Branding For The Brave: The Workhouse Standard
In a market saturated with copies, clones, imitations, originality is the last unfair advantage. At Workhouse, we don’t just admire original voices — we amplify them. We partner with creators, founders, artists, and visionaries who are building something real. Not algorithms. Not noise. Not trend-chasing AI fluff. But sharp, culture-shifting work that deserves to be heard — and heard loudly. Amplifying isn’t about volume for volume’s sake. It’s about clarity. Precision. Relevance. We translate vision into strategy, voice into platforms, and potential into reach.

What We Build:
Brand architecture that honors difference.
Campaigns that carry weight and don’t evaporate.
Creative that conquers. 

In a culture obsessed with replication, Workhouse backs the ones who build from scratch.
We don't water it down.
We turn it up.

Amplifying Originals.
Workhouse 175 Varick St NYC

Hollywood isn’t the only game in town.
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With Netflix’s colossal studio set to rise at Fort Monmouth, the indomitable Diane Raver launching the trailblazing New Jersey Film Academy, the celebrated Garden State Film Festival lighting up Asbury Park, and the First Annual New Jersey Film Expo making its debut—the Garden State is no longer the backdrop. It’s the spotlight.
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This isn’t a moment. It’s a movement. New Jersey is officially in production.

On social media, people are turning themselves into plastic dolls. Getting boxed up, polished, and posted.

We made one that breaks out.

Introducing WORKHOUSE "Dolls For Dreamers"

For anyone tired of toys that break, bend, or bore. That snap in half. Or never shut up.
Meet the only figure that doesn’t fold under pressure.

At Workhouse, we don’t pitch plastic. We build originals—boxed, branded, and battle-tested. Fully poseable. Built to move. Made to matter.

Our clients? Directors. Designers. Musicians. Misfits. Makers. The daring. The doers. The ones who actually deliver. Here, imagination isn’t a gimmick. It’s the whole operation.

We don’t package empty promises.And we don’t jam batteries into weak ideas. No filler. No fake buttons. No assembly required.

READY FOR ACTION

WORKHOUSE is where creative firepower gets its own character.
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Are you a dreamer with a deadline who never outgrew ambition Visit workhousepr.com to learn why our figures don’t just play. They perform.

In a time when stock markets have crashed… and consumers clutch their purse strings… Brands have lost access to global sales—wrecked by America’s insane "Tariff Tantrum."
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Now, navigating the American market isn’t optional—it’s the last viable path to profit. Whether you’re emerging, iconic, established… or irrelevant--Workhouse builds brands that get noticed. Modern-day marketing with celebrity craftsmanship that delivers real results—from headlines to bottom lines. Visit workhousepr.com to see how myth makers create award-winning work.

#OnThisDay 24 February 2001—24 years ago— The 24 Hour Plays took the stage at the Henry Fonda Theater in Los Angeles co-produced by Workhouse to raise critical donations for the New York State WTC Relief Fund. In the wake of 9/11, this extraordinary event brought together an incredible ensemble of talent, proving that art can be a force for healing and change.
Workhouse founder Adam Nelson portrayed Otto in Sleeping City, directed by Gregory Mosher, alongside Jared Harris, Seth Green, and Gina Phillips. The Los Angeles edition featured a stellar lineup, including Mila Kunis, Sarah Silverman, John Ritter, Bob Balaban, Adam Goldberg, Christina Applegate, Jennifer Coolidge, and a galaxy of greats—each contributing to six original plays created, rehearsed, and performed within just 24 hours.

Just days after 9/11, Workhouse co-produced The 24 Hour Plays to aid NYC, one of the first artistic endeavors to take place during a dark & difficult time. Nelson shared the stage with Philip Seymour Hoffman, Marisa Tomei and Fisher Stevens joining a powerhouse cast that included Rosie Perez, Benjamin Bratt, Billy Crudup, Mary-Louise Parker, Julianne Moore, Kyra Sedgwick, Natasha Lyonne, Scarlett Johansson, Liev Schreiber, and Sam Rockwell. The benefit raised over $30,000, performing for a sold-out audience including New York icons like Robert DeNiro and Kevin Bacon. Every dollar supported the families and victims of September 11th.
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What began as a response to an unimaginable tragedy has since grown into an internationally celebrated tradition. The 24 Hour Plays continues to bring together artists and audiences, proving that storytelling and community can create lasting impact—on stage and beyond.

​NEW CLIENT: Tiny Brick Oven
1036 Light Street Baltimore, Maryland

Baltimore’s TinyBrickOven was set to close on Christmas—until David Portnoy - El Presidente walked in. One bite, a 7.9 rating, and one life-changing moment:

“How much do you need to stay open?”
Owner Will Fagg hesitated. $60,000.
“Done,” Portnoy said.

What followed was nothing short of extraordinary. Millions watched the viral moment, and within days, donations poured in, doubling the goal and securing TinyBrickOven’s future. The once-struggling pizzeria is now packed daily, a testament to the power of community, resilience, and damn good pizza.

But this isn’t just a comeback story. It’s a beginning. Fagg is expanding beyond the restaurant, launching a high-performance pizza oven line this May, engineered for both home cooks and professionals. His pizza-making classes at TinyBrickOven and online at MyPizzaSchool.com give aspiring pizzaiolos the skills to craft the perfect pie. This Valentine’s Day, his “That’s Amore” pizza class will bring couples together over the art of dough, sauce, and cheese.
His mission extends far beyond business. As a former service member, Fagg ensures that veterans and VA hospital staff receive meals as a token of appreciation. Every Christmas, his team delivers hot pizzas to Baltimore’s homeless, a tradition that continues no matter what.

Now, TinyBrickOven enters its next chapter with Workhouse.
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“We are excited to announce our partnership with Adam Nelson & Workhouse. After an exhaustive search, we are confident they will be a good match representing our brand and our spirit.” – Will Fagg, Tiny Brick Oven
We here at Workhouse are proud to amplify this story of perseverance, passion, and pizza.

Brooke Berman knows what it means to be in the trenches. Not the kind with sandbags and fatigues, but the kind that come with late-night rewrites, diapers, and a creative industry that treats women over 40 like yesterday’s news. Her directorial debut, Ramona at Midlife, isn’t just another indie film—it’s a battle cry. Starring Yvonne Woods alongside Alysia Reiner (Ms. Marvel), Joel De La Fuente (The Man in the High Castle), and April Matthis (New Amsterdam), the film follows Ramona, a once-promising literary star now struggling to balance single motherhood, a dead-end job, and the ultimate insult—watching her own life repurposed as someone else’s movie. Premiering on Apple TV and Prime on February 11, 2025, Ramona at Midlife takes aim at the way women’s stories are told, twisted, and too often dismissed. Kristen Vaganos, who produced the film, calls it “a female-driven tale about who gets to tell whose story—and why it matters.” It’s messy, darkly funny, and brutally honest, much like Berman herself. And it took everything she had to make it happen. The road to Ramona was paved with frustration, perseverance, and, of all things, unanswered letters to Patti Smith. Because when Berman needed a map for how to hold onto art, ambition, and motherhood all at once, the legendary punk poet was the only one who seemed to have cracked the code. Here, in her own words, Berman lays it all out.
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Dear Patti Smith: by Brooke Berman
I met Patti Smith the summer of 2010 at the Chateau Marmont. I’d fallen in love with her later than most, through her memoir Just Kids. I moved to New York City at eighteen much as she had, for art and poetry and like her, built a life devoted to those things. But she became important to me later, as a mother, when I struggled to understand how my identity as an artist (in my case, a playwright and later filmmaker) would survive motherhood. It’s not that I couldn’t write. I could! I had sold a pitch a few months before my son was born, and the producers were expecting a first draft a few months post-partem. In fact, I worked relentlessly through my son’s first year. The questions emerged later, in the second and third years, and they were deeper and more foundational than whether (or when) I’d write. I wanted to know who I was becoming. And I wanted a role model.

My mother had died a few years earlier. When I went home to Detroit for her funeral, my then-89-year-old grandmother turned to me and said, “You’re going to get married and have a child.” I responded, “I’m 39, Grandma, don’t hold your breath.” But soon after, I met my husband at an artists retreat and did just as I’d been told. As an older mother (41 by that point) with one child, I knew I wanted to be present for the early years. Naïve, I had no idea that my career would take a hit. And I was grossly unprepared for what that hit would feel like or the loss of identity it would render in me. I had been a theater artist for as long as I could remember. It was the only thing I ever wanted. And now, as the mother of a barely sleeping toddler, knee-deep in kids’ music and Open Play, I needed to know how to connect what felt like disparate identities—Mommy, Writer, and Woman.

Patti Smith seemed to know the answer. I knew she knew. And I wanted her to tell me. I wanted her to write me a poem or give me a map and show me just how I could become the next version of myself but even more to the point, how I could be present for my son and Art without breaking in two. I wanted her to tell me it would be okay.

The origin story of Ramona at Midlife probably dates back to our summer pilgrimages to Detroit. Each August, visiting Grandma Ida, my husband and son and I would wander the city (Detroit Institute of the Arts! Belle Isle! John King Rare Books!) and I’d write letters to Patti Smith in my head. I wanted to know: Did you go to PTA meetings? Did you make small talk with other moms on the playground? How did you handle homework? What did you think of Curriculum Night? I wanted to know all about those years and whether she ever doubted the journey. I wanted her to tell me how to survive.

There are so many films and TV shows that show women having to choose between creative power and maternal power, as if there were no way to survive the ambivalence and constant juggling act of both. We’re told that The Baby Boomers lied and we can’t have it all. And while perhaps that is true, what if we could withstand the ambivalence and trade-offs and arguments and forge a path? Smith, at least what I know of her, refused to put these two identities in conflict. She somehow figured it out.
I want to hear more about that. I want to hear Patti Smith talk about the trade-offs. I want to learn. I want to hear about fatigue. About marriage between two artists (like Smith and Smith, my husband and I are both writers). Finally, I want to hear what it was like to move back to New York when her kids were older and how she stepped so seamlessly back into her place here, a role she never really relinquished, Punk Princess and Poet. New York received her with open arms. How did that happen?

I want these stories. I need them. And if I am ever lucky enough to meet Patti Smith, I promise to report back.

Brooke Berman never got that letter back from Patti Smith. But she did get something else—a film that asks those same impossible questions and dares to believe there might be an answer.

Ramona at Midlife is now available for pre-order on iTunes and will stream on Apple TV and Prime starting February 11, 2025. Pre-order here.