21st
Guest Writer: Kareem Badr (Austin)
Kareem Badr is an improviser and actor from Austin, TX. He is a founding member of Parallelogramophonograph, and one of the owners of The Hideout Theatre, where he performs, directs, and teaches improv.
I am in a touring improv troupe.
Wait, let me state that more accurately. I am in an improv troupe that tours occasionally.
Wait, more accurate still: I am in an improv troupe that, on occasion, has been fortunate enough to have improvisers in other cities, some of whom we’ve never met, welcome us with open arms.
On the couple tours my troupe has done, the shows were only possible because the improv communities in the cities we visited were generous enough to give us stage time. Some of them made space for us in existing shows. Some of them arranged for shows and found venues just so we could play. Why? No other reason than the fact that we’re fellow improvisers. We’re in the same club. And so we’ve got the word ‘yes’ embedded in our bones.
If I’m going to be totally honest, the world-wide improv club can feel more like an Improv Cult sometimes. Get a group of improvisers together and it’s all we can talk about. Put one of us in a party full of non-improvisers, and we’ll probably try to convert someone to join our cult. “Oh man, you need to take an improv class!” We must be the happiest cult-members the world’s ever seen. It can feel a little weird at times, when I take a step back and try to imagine it from the eyes of someone who’s not in the cult. On the other hand, if our cult’s supportive and positive energy is the outlier, maybe everyone else is wrong. (Hmm, spoken like someone who’s been truly brain-washed. I digress…)
I am musing on this on the evening of the Austin improv scene’s annual Thanksgiving Potluck. It’s basically a giant love-fest, bringing together hundreds of improvisers in Austin, spanning the 5 or 6 dedicated improv theaters in town. People eat and drink and, with each passing year, marvel at how ridiculously huge and supportive the scene has gotten. And the most amazing tradition is what has been dubbed the “love notes”: everyone writes their name on a small manila envelope and hangs it on a clothes line. Throughout the evening, people write little notes—one or two lines—telling each other how awesome they are, and drop them in the envelopes. When you leave the event, you’ve got this thick stack of love notes, scrawled by fellow improvisers.
Now, I am not one for hippie, “peace and love, man” sentiments, but that’s pretty damn cool. And it should, could, and has extended into the greater improv community, beyond the Austin city limits. Really, the love notes are just a heightened version of the support that improvisers give each other, on and off-stage. It’s the same sentiment that had my troupe performing in random improv theaters on the west and east coasts of the US. It’s the same thing that makes you feel instantly more connected to someone when you find out they’re an improviser, too. You both speak the same language. You’re both in the special club.
Granted, sometimes our International Cult of Improv has some disagreements. Oh, you know the ones: This type of improv is childish. That type of improv is too structured. This warm-up is infuriating and pointless. This kind of improv got roast beef. This kind of improv had none. But when it comes down to it, we’re all doing the same thing. Short-form, long-form, narrative, Harold, montage, fast-paced, slow-and-patient. We are all on stage, doing this adult version of make-believe, because of how amazing it feels to support and be supported unconditionally, by reflex. That, in my opinion, is the ideal zen-like improviser state that we all aspire to: supportive by default.
So, I feel pretty lucky to be a part of our little cult. And the more I do improv, the more I learn the importance of supporting others, the way I’ve been supported. It sounds pretty cliché and cheesy, even as I write it, but it’s absolutely true.
Now who wants some Kool-Aid?
Previous guests: RobYn Slade, Ian Parizot, Rachel Klein, Dave Morris, From the old blog
