I met Kyle Kazanjian-Amory, CEO and founder of Don’t Tell Comedy, at a show he hosted in a loft in New York’s Meatpacking District.

Kyle describes Don’t Tell Comedy as a house party for comedians. 

He launched the company in 2017 when he arranged a performance in a friend’s backyard. Three months later he quit his day job as an accountant and organized 35 more shows that year.

The shows featured little-known comics appearing in unusual locations announced at the last minute. He charged a small amount because he realized it made people more likely to show up. The events were BYOB to reduce the cost and increase the fun. 

That modest start has morphed into 100 events a week. Growth has been fueled by taping some of the shows and posting content on social media.

Kyle said the hardest part about building the business in the beginning and even today is managing the inventory of chairs. Chairs have to be stored somewhere and lugged everywhere. 

Early on he would pack 60 IKEA Gunde chairs into a Prius and drive from LA to Portland. He jokes that if the comedy doesn’t work out they could pivot to be a chair rental company. 

After graduating from college, Kyle worked briefly as an accountant. He hated it. On the side he was doing stand up; he was frustrated that the shows weren’t more engaging. 

As he described it on the podcast More of That, shows were held in the same tired venues and required two drinks. Some were held in bars where comics had to compete with football on TV. It wasn’t fun. 

His solution was to host shows in smaller, unique sites announced the same day. He picked places ranging from CrossFit gyms to art galleries to barber shops. 

I attended a show in a loft near 14th street. It was one of the events that Don’t Tell videotaped. 

That effort started in 2022 with a YouTube channel and has been an accelerant to growth. In two years the channel has ballooned to 1.7 million subscribers.

The clips Don’t Tell posts have helped comics develop their own audiences and get discovered by bigger clubs. Kyle said he wants to be known as the brand that discovers talent. 

I can vouch that Don’t Tell is nothing like other shows I’ve attended. A friend recently took me to the vaunted Comedy Cellar in Greenwich Village. 

We were herded in like livestock through a narrow door. We had to deposit our phones in sealed plastic pouches. There was the inevitable requirement of two expensive, poorly made drinks. The comics were good, but they would drop in – do their set – and leave. 

By contrast, the comedians at Don’t Tell lingered after the show. The group included Mason James, Nore Davis, Jay Larson, Rachel Feinstein and Rachel Williams.

I listened in as one of them — Mason — shared his experiences with guests. 

All around us the crew was breaking down and packing away the chairs. 

Somewhere outside a Prius was probably waiting to take them to the next venue.