June 2011
20 posts
As a communication professional, I recognize the importance of letting the world know about your latest thing. I get that you’re trying to build a brand, but please build that brand outside of your main networks.
Generating brand awareness is about finding markets that might be interested in what you have to offer. Cultivating that audience once you know who they are and engaging them to buy your product. You do not build your brand by shoving your product down the throat of everyone who follows you on Twitter or is friends with you on Facebook.
This is not directed at anyone in particular, just a general note to everyone out there who has a product.
The same thing goes for Facebook invites. These are generally only useful for people who are planning a party and who need to know how many people are planning on attending or as a general announcement of your event. Do not publish your attendee list, and don’t message people who reply “Maybe” with stupid ass messages about how “This will be the best thing ever and you’re stupid if you miss it” messages like this make me want to defriend you. I’ve done it before. (as a side note in the past I have been guilty of sending messages to people like this, but, I have learned the error of my ways, and it doesn’t get people to come to your event, believe me).
I have this weird rule whenever I do improv, it may be from what my 101 teacher told me, or my years of experience improvising. But I have a dress code when I improvise.
Ladies: Don’t wear dresses or skirts. It makes it harder for you to be able to roll around on the floor if need be, and it limits the way the audience will perceive your improv, if you decide to play a character of the opposite gender, I as an audience member will be less likely to believe you based on what you’re wearing.
Example: When my improv group Dumpster Tequila performed at The Phoenix Improv Festival, there was an all female group called Mail Order Bride, who all wore dresses, not just like dresses, but like 1950’s house dresses. It was very distracting to see these women, many of whom were talented improvisers pigeon hole themselves by wearing such gender specific clothing.
Boys: Don’t wear shorts, basically for the same reason that ladies shouldn’t wear dresses or skirts. Also don’t wear ties. It traps you into playing one specific gender and limits your ability to perform.
Don’t give the audience any reason to judge you before you open your mouth. Let your performance speak volumes not your outfit.
Mike Doughty speaks the truth:
People in the comedy world: please forgive this klutzy attempt to insert myself into your role in society.
I’ve had a peripheral role in the New York comedy universe for a little while, as a musical guest. I went to the old Luna shows on Ludlow Street in the 90s, and it just astonishes me how it’s grown and mutated. I can’t tell you happy I am that I’ve gotten to have a role on the fringes.
I’m persistently angry that the NYTimes doesn’t review this gigantic, vibrant subculture NEARLY AT ALL. I’m persistently mystified that the comedians, the producers, and the audience isn’t near-obsessively outraged at being baldly ignored. It’s literally unbelievable that it’s so vital and pervasive, but isn’t covered thoroughly and constantly.
I’m just a fan, and, to a minor degree, a fellow-traveler; I’m sticking my nose into something that’s truly none of my business.
But I had an odd notion for you guys—a zillion people in the comedy universe could pool their dough, buy a full page ad in the Times’ Arts & Leisure section, and write an open letter—signed by supercelebrities, by luminaries of the alternative comedy scene, by producers, by fellow travelers—along the lines of, Um, dudes, what the hell? Are you truly gonna be the paper of record and still not deal with this?
I thought perhaps one of your number could write it (I thought of Eugene Mirman’s amazing open letter to Time Warner cable). I thought it might be something along these lines:
Hi NYTimes—
We’re a cultural phenomenon in this city, yet you don’t review us unless we do something like an off-Broadway one-person show.
We’re not even, like, a developing phenomenon! We’re a vast, complicated, mature, many-faceted artistic movement!
You guys make constant reference to the places some of us work at—The Daily Show, the Onion, SNL. Big ideas that enter the culture through these shows, and go on to have a huge cultural significance, are incubated in the comedy clubs, improv shows, and the alternative comedy shows around the city.
You guys review dance and off-off-Broadway theater, which, God love ‘em, might be amazing, but have very small audiences, and, alas, little cultural impact.
You guys periodically fret about the decline of theater’s audiences. Improv shows all over the city are packed every night. Dudes. That’s live theater.
The Times has a full-time video game reviewer, for crying out loud!
Part of your response might be that it’s difficult to cover, because performers zigzag constantly between shows—it’d take some ingenuity to get a critical overview. Well, yeah. You’re absolutely right. It’d be tough. You’re the paper of record—it would be shocking if you chose to ignore something of great cultural significance because it was too hard.
Yours truly,
Five Hundred Highly Significant, Culturally Influential, Brilliant People
I’m really embarrassed about so enthusiastically barging into you guys’ issues. But I’ve had contact with a bunch of performance and art worlds in New York City, for decades, and none—none, none, none, none, literally NONE—have the power and dynamism of the comedy world.
Rah-Rah, JK, this is ridiculous, I have been promoting improv shows and one person shows for close to three years. While I get the rah-rah sentiment behind this, even smaller publications won’t review improv shows, on occasion you can get someone from an outlet like Time Out NY to come cover a one person show from someone with a lot of klout in the comedy world, but to ask the NY Times to come review improv shows. Nope sorry. The reason why they cover off-off-Broadway shows and weird dance shows in the attic of a coffee shop is because that’s what their readers want to hear about, and it’s usually the same thing every night.
As a critic it’s not really feasible to review an improv show, it’s so subjective and it’s a different show every night, so you can’t really tell your readers what to expect. I think for now as improvisers you have to build your audience and work on your craft until you’re ready to do that breakout thing that gets you noticed. A little patience never hurt anyone.
Sometimes when I get home after a good improv practice, I turn into a 5 year old after a particularly exciting day at school.
“And and and then… I was in a scene. And I was a scientist. And he made robot who could I taught to love me. And in this other scene I was a lady on a soap opera. And my…
That was an amazing practice!
I saw a guy on the train yesterday coming home from work, who was gently caressing the subway door like he was going to make out with it. He was still on the train when I left, so who knows if he ever got lucky. “Stand clear of the closing door please”
Throw yourself a dance party today in your cubicle, office, desk, apartment, street, subway car. You deserve it.
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Phew finally got that out of my system