Camp

(Author's note: this was originally published on the Camp Improv Utopia blog in August of 2012.  It received some negative feedback (likely from the same people who are being called out for their actions in it) and was taken down.)

What I've been telling everyone since I got back from camp, is that my favorite thing about the weekend wasn't the workshops or the teachers or getting to do some camp activities (though those were all great, I should emphasize, as was the wonderful conclave of improvisers I met and the food we ate). No, my favorite thing was the energy – the attitude, as it were, of everyone there. A noncompetitive, supportive, and overwhelmingly positive view towards improv being a gift; one that we were all fortunate enough to have received and even more fortunate to get to give to others. Now this is a wonderful 'tude, but could it survive outside the confines of a place where we were all gathered under the banner of “CAMP”, which is to say, could it last when we got back to whatever jingoistic tendencies we had back in the real world?

So a little background here: the San Diego improv scene has been dominated by one theater for the last decade, and the people in charge there have firmly self-enthroned themselves as being the pinnacle of improvisation in the city. (And I know from talking to other people that this, or similar behavior, is not unheard of in other burgeoning communities too, but San Diego's where I'm at, so it's where my examples come from.) They have their own space, five shows a weekend, and a regular training center. However, the folks in command have also become petty, insecure, and elitist about their work – and it's this negative aspect I've most become concerned with. I didn't realize it until I had gone to camp, but I had been tainted with this negative attitude; a wary, watchful, and defensive eye to anyone else trying to do nearly anything. All attitudes are contagious, and bad attitudes are perhaps the most viral, and it wasn't hard to ascertain where the disease vector was.

It's unfortunate, more than anything, because the city has started to get a very strong, active improv scene in the last few years, run by people who I consider friends, even though they have a different team name from me. People who don't care what flag they march under, just so long as they get to march. Which, some people (including those at the above theater) interpret to be some indication of untrustworthy, disloyal, or even seditious behavior, but others just see as people just wanting to do and get better at something they enjoy doing. Part of the issue is that this problem group also likes to think of themselves as the solenoid who gets to decide who is and who is not worthy of getting to improvise because they see lesser productions as being a detriment to their image. They play improv as poker - however it's not; poker is a zero-sum game, where one player will walk away the victor with more chips than anyone else, at the expense of the other players. In a zero-sum game, the totals of losses and gains all add up to zero, but in improv, everyone can win. We can all walk away from the table with more chips if we want to.

I can't, unfortunately, claim innocence in any of this, this petty, uncouth behavior. This darkness seeps out into our community and it was only when I came into contact with people who don't think about how to take advantage of each other that I see how far I've dropped (an issue I've explored in previous blog posts: 00george.blogspot.com). I think of a line from the Monkees theme song in particular:

We're too busy singing/To put anybody down

Time spent infighting is time not spent improvising, and that is a true waste. And it really is sad, because together, we have the capability to accomplish so much more when we're not worried about stamping out those that are different from us. Diversity should be encouraged; research has shown that being welcoming of diversity is not only good because it makes us not monsters, but because it makes biological organisms stronger and less prone to disease, and makes organizations and systems more agile and flexible. On an artistic level, the more people working on a problem, the faster the problem is solved and the larger the variety of solutions.

Do those good vibes survive outside of camp? The answer is yes – but unfortunately a non-emphatic, qualified “yes”. I have forged some very strong bonds with members of the other “independent” groups; we go to each other's birthday parties, we congratulate each other on successful shows, we help get each other gigs when possible. I meet people all the time down here who are excited about improv and just want to “do”. I also meet a lot of people who have become disenfranchised by the haughty and non-supportive attitude, and the strategy is to either put up with it or distance yourself (and of course, others continue to embrace it, which is even more unfortunate). Ultimately, it is our responsibility to promote the kind of energy we want (to which I could quote an endless series of seemingly trite kitsch slogans like “be the change you want to see in the world”). At least we can take comfort in knowing that somewhere out there (maybe not even a place, maybe just a group of people), there's a spot we can be free to work and explore.

A Cult

People get really put off by the word “cult”; my group, the Stage Monkeys, when it originally started in Louisiana, was (and still is) called the Cult of the Stage Monkey, but when it moved to Mississippi, dropped the “Cult” part, because nearly all of the Miss is in the bible belt, and they don't take to kindly to that kind of talk down there. But improv is in general, a cult itself, and not just in the way that other folks have pointed out before (we make you pay money, we steal your time, we make you more open, emotionally bare weirdos), I mean we are a cult of personality.

Even outside of the near religious reverence of people like Del Close (who does have a shrine at the iO Chicago, for Del's sake) – we revere the people that are involved in it. There are certain people, whose personalities are magnetic – players we love watching, regardless of what show we're watching them in, in fact, we may even prefer to see them in low-concept shows so that we can just watch them. I'm as guilty of this as anyone; you tell me Greg Hess or Blaine Swen or Dave Hill or -stop the presses- Bill Arnett is in a show, and I'm there – I don't even care what they're doing. That's a cult of personality: the devotion of a group of people or community to a single person, based solely on the fact that they are them. A religion built on someone's persona.

Now, in contrast, I just started playing in a community band and noticed something that I had really forgotten about bands – the melding of disparate voices into one sound (“one band, one sound”, to use my Drumline parlance). It's really there in the name: band, ensemble, etc., you have a bunch of very different sounds, that all work together to create a song. Now some instruments are stronger than others (trumpet, trombone) in their big, splashy (often brassy) sounds, while others are cooler, more mellow instruments (saxaphone, clarinet) – but the point is that the entire sound of the group isn't derived from a single voice; it's all the tones working together that complete the sound – it is the very nature of the myriad instruments working together that you can make music. Sure, you can still play some songs without some instruments, but you need all of them working together (and in the right balance) or what you're playing isn't complete.

By the same token, it's important that groups of improvisers recognize the need to have a “complete” ensemble to make “complete” improvs. You can't have an orchestra made of just english horns, and you can't have an improv group made of just smart-witty improviser types. We often lose sight of this when recognizing good improv, in focusing on one particular solo, and forgetting that it was the tubas and bass clarinets that finished the picture. And I say this being well aware that being in two-man improvs, it is all about the cult of personality. Two people can't just be playing the bass line; they've gotta carry the melody and the harmony just to make the song go. You watch a two-man improv, and you buy into the cult of personality: you're saying that what these two people do is interesting enough to sustain your attention.

The Onion's AV Club pointed out in a recent article that rock is currently a post-decadence period: we built nearly the entirety of music (and movies, and a lot of other art) on the backs of artists. “A gross display of power” was how they put it; popular musicians with easy access to money, drugs, and women, and in a lot of ways, we celebrated them for it. Sure, we want them to put out good music, but we also want to see how outrageously oppulent their mansions were, although, the AV Club does point out that now being a “rock band” is discouraged among rock bands. Look at the virtual indiffference to film like I'm Still Here, that follows the faux-destruction of Joaquin Phoenix. These are artistic endeavors nearly more focused on the behavior of the people making it than what they're actually making.

But it's that exact same reason that I am always more impressed to watch a group of people put something together than I am to watch a two-man show, it's just plain harder. You get more people, you add more voices to the sound, which both makes the work harder and at the same time more complex, distinct, and diverse. You are no longer relying on two people to do a duet or an accompanied solo, you're watching the whole orchestra folding themselves into each other to create a rich ensemble piece. Which isn't to demean or diminish the work of a great duo of improvisers, as that has its own inherent difficulties, but its to say that there is a difference between a note and a chord. When you diminish the inherent power of the individual, you heighten the value of the collective – the group mind, or in this case, the group sound. But remember that your group is playing a chord, and every instrument should be utilized to fill it out.