Goodbye 3541

I started taking classes at iO in 2007. I didn't go to a show for my first term there because I was too scared to use my student ID and I was too broke to pay for a show. During level 2 I mustered up enough courage to go see the Sunday 10:30 show which turned out to be GhettoBlaster and 3033. The first show I didn't care for much but when 3033 took the stage I was enthralled. They took a suggestion and for thirty minutes danced and interpretively moved to a soundtrack, no dialogue. I remember it being funny but it struck me more as an engaging piece of theater, even more impressive given these five men were big, big but graceful. From then on I was hooked.

The following week I went back on Sunday this time for the whole evening. That was the first time I saw Deep Schwa. I fell in love. They were so fast, so smart, so wickedly playful. I don't remember much about the show but after it my face hurt from laughing. The team at the time was Jeff Griggs, Brett Lyons, Dan Antonucci, Kevin Fleming, Meagan Flanigan, Brian Jack and Colleen Murray. Craig Uhlir got back from Vegas a month or so after I started watching Schwa and at first I didn't like him- too sharp, too mean, too aggressive. As a teacher Craig won me over and that roster of Schwa became my signpost and my inspiration for what improv was and could be. Subsequent additions and returning members like Rob Janas, Brian Wilson, Kate Duffy, Joe Canale, Danny Mora, and Neil McNamara were also incredible to watch. Since that first show back in 2007 I've only missed a handful of Sunday nights at iO, less than ten.

                             

I didn't got on a team after classes, I was crushed and angry. I did some work, auditioned, and made it in. My first team at iO was FireCup, it was a great first team, we really cared about each other and most of the time it showed on stage. It was a huge accomplishment when we started playing downstairs in the Cab, in my mind that was always the stage to play on, the goal, where the real work was being done. My second team was Rick where I think I did some of my best work with the Harold. My third team The Hague was great in its atonal weirdness. My independent team The Album and Julia and I's two person show Salute Jive both got runs in the Cabaret, both were unexpected and I couldn't have been more grateful for the opportunities. Ted and I put up our two person sketch show "A Year Of Saturdays" in the DCT, it was the first thing I did that I felt was in my voice. I found that voice at iO.

I had some great teachers and some bad teachers who talked too much. I had some boring teachers and some creepy teachers and some inspiring teachers. I learned some great lessons, some of them because of how angry and biting they were delivered. Some people were mean to me, I was mean to some people, I embarrassed myself a number of times, sometimes I was too proud. Occasionally I talked too much shit.

I had the pleasure of coaching JaJaJa, Echo my first Harold team the members of which will always be near and dear to me and currently coach Attica. I made a lot of friends, was involved with many interesting projects, got inspired, got motivated, got beaten down and picked myself up. I had a place to go whenever I wanted. I found a home and an art form that excited me. 

I don't have much attachment to the building itself, it's the people that are important, but I'll miss the Cabaret stage, the low ceiling, the simple lights, the way the laughs and indifference sounded. I'll miss watching a great show and getting pumped up to go on after or watching a terrible show and getting pumped up to get the crowd back. I'll miss doing a great set coming off and feeling sorry for the team that has to follow it. I'll miss the challenges and the energy, the heat and the camaraderie. It was such a unique space, part bar part theater, compact and intimate. I'll miss sneaking in the back and watching shows from the hall way and then disappearing during freeze.

It wasn't a flawless place. It could be dangerous both interpersonally and in regards to performance. It could be a place of judgement but also kindness and acceptance. Of contradictions. It was a place where you could seek and find some clarity of purpose. Hone your comedic chops in a classroom or on a stage.

It was a magical place and after tonight it's gone.

Rules

I've never liked rules or people telling me what to do. I've always had the instinct to disobey or avoid them. I never saw much good in restrictions and never had much respect for the way other people want things to be done. As time has past this knee-jerk contrary outlook has faded. At a job there are certain expectations and as an employee you are required to fulfill them, there is a complicit agreement. With certain modes of performance there are established ways of doing things, agreed upon paths and directions. There is a time to go against the grain but unilateral rebellion is not only unwise it is often unproductive.

Tonight I subcoached BIG JUDY for Mark. A great group of fresh improvisers. They were great at taking direction and took inspiration from some really cool places. What was most striking was their adherence to certain improv rules at the detriment to the scene and/or having fun.

Yes and is the core tenant of improvisation but I think there is a common misconception about what that actually means. Fundamentally its about agreement. Insuring the people on stage have some common understanding of what is going on. It does not mean that the players have to agree to each others ideas, concepts, or premises. If the character you are playing doesn't like what another character is saying or doesn't like them period its ok, even logical, to say no to them, to put them down, to enter into an argument. The text and subtext of a scene do not need to contain "yes and" its broader concept that applies to the performers not the imaginary worlds they create. Questions are another tool improvisers are conditioned not to use. But often a person has more of an idea of their character than you do and doesn't want to go off on an expositional monologue derailing the scene. So, questions are a fine avenue to use when teasing out more information about certain characters or the scene. Arguments are another no-no. This is probably the rule I think is the most useless after a certain education point. Disagreements or characters with opposing points of view drive dramatic action, they are normal in the world we live in. Misunderstandings and emotional hurt are fundamental aspects of life. To tell improvisers to adhere to this doctrine is not only hamstringing their ability to use their real life in their imaginary life but it often makes for incredibly boring scenes.

Next week at work "The Board" is coming in to do their yearly meeting. My bosses seemed to be wound pretty tight about it reiterating certain protocols multiple times. Something that in the past would have really bothered me. Now it doesn't so much, it takes little effort from me to wear a tie three days next week and to mind my p's and q's around the higher ups. There is no cause to go against my work place restrictions, there is no reason to, no end game. I receive a pay check, I'll gladly show up with a tie. When it comes to policy and our procedures for certain things, that's another matter, I handle things in the most efficient and effective way as I see it even if that means not necessarily going with the pre-established protocol.

There is a time and a place for all rules. From speeding, to work place dress codes, to performance. But often situations call for rules to be side-stepped, bent, or broken. In improv and in life we find those points where divergence from rules is most appropriate.

The echo of Echo

Echo the team I coach at iO had their last show tonight. They are the first team I was appointed to coach by iO and we've been together since they graduated classes around this time last year. Almost a year exactly, not a bad shelf life for a harold team.

They taught me a lot and I hope I taught them as much. It's been a fulfilling, at times pleasantly frustrating, experience. As a coach you walk a fine line between friend, peer, and authority figure. There were times when I knew what I wanted to communicate but couldn't articulate my point, times where I knew what I wanted them to do but couldn't elicit it. I learned how to coach a team and they learned how to be coached. We had some interesting times not least of which was a steady change in roster.

Looking back, I break down the evolution of the team in three acts. Act One: a beginning. Getting to know each other, getting to know the harold, feeling things out, and dealing with one of the original members who was relatively unstable who was subsequently removed. Act Two: a transition period. We got Trevor, Ariel went on a boat, Blair quit the team, and Allison joined it. Act Three: progress. The last six months of the team we really gelled and put up some great shows and consistently had great rehearsals.

I'm so grateful to have been Echo's coach. To have been witness to and partial catalyst of their creative growth as a team and as individuals. Allison, Ariel, Blair, Chris, Chris, Claire, Dave, Mike, Molly, Paul, and Trevor will always have a special place in my heart, they gave me an experience I'll never forget.

This is good luck but not goodbye.

Pride

Last night Echo, the team I coach, had a great show. It was fast, it was fun, and they made a couple of those intuitive leaps/connections that make you sit back during a show and say wow.

As time passes I get to watch them grow, become more confident, and more versatile. I try to guide them and push them in certain directions but I think it's time more than anything that helps them develop. I don't try to impose a style on any individual or the team as a whole. I try to recognize the style of the team and the individual, name it and cultivate it by giving them all the tools I can. Most of the time I think it's just teaching them all the different styles they can play in, the different moves they can make, the different ways to play a scene. Once they have a diverse knowledge of what they can do I let them loose to do whatever they want. I see whatever patterns emerge and try to refine and clarify it.

The team and I have gotten to know each other and I care about them all. They are all talented and I believe I help them in small ways to get better. It's gratifying to see progress, it's gratifying to see them take my advise. When we have a great show or a great rehearsal I feel good. I feel like I've done my job. I feel proud to be part of this group of energetic funny people who are taking some risks.

At the show last night I wanted to point and say: That's my team.

Echo Again

Last night Echo had their first great show. Our previous shows have been good, each one progressively better than the one before, but I hadn't seen that spark of inspiration or sense of fun or magic that I saw last night.

It's nice to get validation. As a coach I don't get a lot of feedback. If the shows are good than that tells me I'm doing good. There is also a discrepancy for new teams between their shows and rehearsals for the first couple months. There's no pressure in rehearsals, I'm the only one there to judge, and for the most part I think there's not a lot of obligation to make me laugh. In front of a packed house that's a different story. They feel pressure to perform and to get laughs because they aren't necessarily totally solidified as a group. Personalities haven't gelled, people don't necessarily know each other that well, there may be an element of panic.

Last night we closed which may have had something to do with it. Watching the first group alleviated some pressure, maybe, I don't know. Before the show I gave everyone on the Team a personal goal, something I wanted to see from them as opposed to a general piece note. I also tried to be as brief as possible. That may have had something to do with it. Improv is so ethereal it's hard to tell. Maybe they were just due.

Regardless they had a great show and I am very proud of them. It excites me for the future.

Echo

The team I'm coaching picked a name last night. The name came from the space we rehearse in. It's this weird cavernous store front, not in use. There's trap doors and a weird sauna/dungeon in the basement. They've been doing some great work and I'm really excited for their first show.

May 14th 1030pm iO.

Dolan

Ryan Dolan was the coach of my CIC team 1941 for 6 months. He was the most articulate, inspiring, direct, insightful coach I have had since Craig. His final rehearsal was yesterday, he stepped down because of scheduling issues.

Me: Dolan, can I take your picture?

Dolan: Sure...what for?

Me: My blog. I'm going to write about how much I liked you as a coach.

Dolan: (deliberate stupid face)

Me: (click)

Dolan could say a couple words and make a gesture and you would know what the note he was giving was. He would give notes that were mostly gestures sometimes. He would be very direct and on someone, put the pressure on them in order to get that discovery. He is a pusher. He brought out something new from everyone. Dolan made everyone on the team grow, some of us in larger ways than others. That's not something I can say about every coach I've had. Dolan is direct when others might be vague. And for that I'll always put him on a pedestal.

The number one thing I loved about Dolan was how much shit he gave to Jimmy. God. Dolan would ride Jimmy so hard. I loved it. It was so fun to watch and most of the notes were totally true. I think Jimmy minded it but I think we didn't mind because we all would have been fine with the same attention. If that makes sense...

I will say Dolan can be surly and may have a weird taste in movies. He was talking up 'A Separation' for weeks. I saw it and was put off.

If you have the opportunity to be coached by Ryan Dolan, take it.

If Ryan Dolan recommends a movie to you. Think about it seriously.