Posted: September 29th, 2010, 11:45 am
I think the thing that gets left out of almost every discussion the Harold I've seen is the socio-economic forces at play at the key moment of its development. It's not sexy to talk about art this way, but as a person who produces shows more frequently now than I appear in them, this way of looking at art is interesting to me.
So what am I saying about the economics of the Harold? This is a gross oversimplification, but here's the jist as I see it. The Harold gets developed, refined, implemented shall we say, at iO by Del and Charna after some rough draft attempts by Del elsewhere. Teams are not genereated from within, but are assembled from the outside. It's not like forming a rock band with your buddies (PGraph, Well Hung Jury) with whom you share a certain affinity, it's a bunch of strangers who get cast to be put together into a group (like a sports draft?) and coached by someone external to the players to help fulfill the artistic mission of the venue. It's as if Emo's got to pick the members of the bands who play the club and could tell them when they had to stop being a band. In fact, iO veterans tell me if I'm wrong, but this very much is still the case, yes?
I'm not saying there's anything wrong with this approach--Gnap! does this with our member troupes, at least the formation part--but these kind of economic decisions have repercussions on the art side. We all like to think that art bursts Athena-like and pure into the world untainted by this kind of stuff, but practical decisions and situational condit ions play a role in how art develops. I could write a book on how the leadership drift at the Hideout in 2003--2005 makes the Austin improv scene in 2010 as multi-faceted as it is, but that's a different tale. Anyway, I'm not talking Harold as is approached today, or in Austin, or whatever. I'm talking early on, things bred into the DNA of the format or sensibility or whatever you want to call it.
I think all of us no matter our improv philosophies and tastes would agree that group mind is essential to good improv, or at the least that absence of group mind makes for mediocre to shitty improv. If you get to select your own improv partners, presumably you already have some kind of personal affinity, as I mentioned before, that translates into a decent chance of good stage chemistry, group mind, cohesion, etc. But if you're put together by somebody else? Chances are not as great that this will be the case. Put together eight to ten folks with possibly little in common (such a number in part to maximize the number of friends that can be roped into going out to fill the seats of the venue that put said stangers together) and the chances of NOT GROUP MIND go way up, into possible clusterfuck territory. To head that off, you might want to come up with a show/format/sensibility that places a primacy on getting some group mind going, stat. In fact, getting to that group mind state, maybe that should be part of the onstage activities of the performers. Boom, there you go, chances for a successful show go way up. I'm not saying that these considerations were the only ones at play as the Harold gets birthed, or that they are the only decisions that could have been made, but they're certainly there in the mix.
That the onstage group mind building can lead to fun, exciting, artistically rich shows is awesome. I can even see how one might think this is the best thing ever and the way things should be. And when things are awesome, they get passed on, even if the economic situations of their inception no longer apply. It's 2010 and people still learn to play the blues, you know what I'm saying? The awesomeness of decisions that at one point had some real practical weight behind them can become a rallying point and a defining artistic characteristic.
As a side note, I think that onstage group mind building rules out one option for how a show might look, which is story. By this I mean if you're actively building group mind on stage, it's not going to look like a narrative, and if you're trying to do a narrative and you're not already in a good group mind place, your story is going to look flat or convoluted or trivial or all three.
Anyhow, thanks for listening to my thoughts on a topic--the Harold--that I thought I was done thinking about. My reluctance to revisit this got trumped by a topic that I am thinking about a great deal right now, namely how these kinds of workaday decisions influence the way art gets made and looks.
And let a thousand flowers bloom. If it works, I'm for whatever style you wanna rock.
So what am I saying about the economics of the Harold? This is a gross oversimplification, but here's the jist as I see it. The Harold gets developed, refined, implemented shall we say, at iO by Del and Charna after some rough draft attempts by Del elsewhere. Teams are not genereated from within, but are assembled from the outside. It's not like forming a rock band with your buddies (PGraph, Well Hung Jury) with whom you share a certain affinity, it's a bunch of strangers who get cast to be put together into a group (like a sports draft?) and coached by someone external to the players to help fulfill the artistic mission of the venue. It's as if Emo's got to pick the members of the bands who play the club and could tell them when they had to stop being a band. In fact, iO veterans tell me if I'm wrong, but this very much is still the case, yes?
I'm not saying there's anything wrong with this approach--Gnap! does this with our member troupes, at least the formation part--but these kind of economic decisions have repercussions on the art side. We all like to think that art bursts Athena-like and pure into the world untainted by this kind of stuff, but practical decisions and situational condit ions play a role in how art develops. I could write a book on how the leadership drift at the Hideout in 2003--2005 makes the Austin improv scene in 2010 as multi-faceted as it is, but that's a different tale. Anyway, I'm not talking Harold as is approached today, or in Austin, or whatever. I'm talking early on, things bred into the DNA of the format or sensibility or whatever you want to call it.
I think all of us no matter our improv philosophies and tastes would agree that group mind is essential to good improv, or at the least that absence of group mind makes for mediocre to shitty improv. If you get to select your own improv partners, presumably you already have some kind of personal affinity, as I mentioned before, that translates into a decent chance of good stage chemistry, group mind, cohesion, etc. But if you're put together by somebody else? Chances are not as great that this will be the case. Put together eight to ten folks with possibly little in common (such a number in part to maximize the number of friends that can be roped into going out to fill the seats of the venue that put said stangers together) and the chances of NOT GROUP MIND go way up, into possible clusterfuck territory. To head that off, you might want to come up with a show/format/sensibility that places a primacy on getting some group mind going, stat. In fact, getting to that group mind state, maybe that should be part of the onstage activities of the performers. Boom, there you go, chances for a successful show go way up. I'm not saying that these considerations were the only ones at play as the Harold gets birthed, or that they are the only decisions that could have been made, but they're certainly there in the mix.
That the onstage group mind building can lead to fun, exciting, artistically rich shows is awesome. I can even see how one might think this is the best thing ever and the way things should be. And when things are awesome, they get passed on, even if the economic situations of their inception no longer apply. It's 2010 and people still learn to play the blues, you know what I'm saying? The awesomeness of decisions that at one point had some real practical weight behind them can become a rallying point and a defining artistic characteristic.
As a side note, I think that onstage group mind building rules out one option for how a show might look, which is story. By this I mean if you're actively building group mind on stage, it's not going to look like a narrative, and if you're trying to do a narrative and you're not already in a good group mind place, your story is going to look flat or convoluted or trivial or all three.
Anyhow, thanks for listening to my thoughts on a topic--the Harold--that I thought I was done thinking about. My reluctance to revisit this got trumped by a topic that I am thinking about a great deal right now, namely how these kinds of workaday decisions influence the way art gets made and looks.
And let a thousand flowers bloom. If it works, I'm for whatever style you wanna rock.