Woman Around Town’s Anne Richmond is attending an eight-week course on standup comedy at the Comic Strip and writing about her experience. This is her fourth installment.
D. F. Sweedler, our instructor at the Comic Strip, did a head count.
“Lots of people called in sick this week.”
We had all begun to bond over the weeks and there was a tittering of conversations coming to an end as we settled in.
“More time for everyone else!” D. F. took his seat and began sending us up onto the stage one by one.
Indeed, there was more time for everyone with a smaller class size. Everything felt more intimate and there was more time to weigh in on everyone’s jokes and for D. F. to make suggestions.
I felt way more at ease with my material. I had been working on a new piece about people who give me the “silent treatment” that I found particularly clever. However,when I ended the joke by cutting out a woman’s tongue and sewing her lips shut, D.F. let out a stunned chuckle.
“Wow,” he said.
“I guess it’s a little violent…” I smiled sheepishly as I dismounted the stage.
“Why did you end it that way?”
“It’s supposed to be retribution against people who give the silent treatment.”
“Wouldn’t retribution against the silent treatment be giving it back to them at an inappropriate time?” The class began sounding off examples as I thought through the joke, scribbling down some notes on my pad.
D. F. pulled my attention back from my paper. “Are you listening? They’re writing your joke for you right now.”
This experience is a great example of the benefits of taking a class like this. Assuming people get comfortable with each other, the atmosphere turns into a workshop. It’s important not to get lost in your head because you might miss the suggestions from your peers. Being present in a room isn’t just about being there. It’s about being there and being open and aware at all times and also being good at accepting criticism.
So far was I hadn’t felt particularly invested in my jokes. I thought they were situations people would relate to, but these jokes were removed from me, my experiences, and my point of view on the world. (One example: Going with a date to Max Brenner’s where chocolate is king and being embarrassed to order something chocolate. Never happened to me).
This week I pulled out my biggest embarrassment and put it on the table. I’m terribly addicted to video games. I didn’t receive raucous laughter when I performed my bit, but my classmates showed more interested in my act than ever before.
As we went over the joke, I mentioned the experience of trying to teach my dad to play video games and there were a few laughs.
D. F. nodded. “Bring in more about this. Embrace your addiction and describe the ways it has gotten you into trouble.”
That week I set out to specify and expand my point of view on gaming. I had to make it accessible enough to be understood by an audience, but also specific enough to be personal.
That night I watched Dane Cook’s DVD performance of his show, Vicious Circle. It’s one of my favorite HBO comedy specials. At the beginning of the show, Cook says that he’s excited about letting people into his world. After this week, I’m pretty sure that this is the very heart of all stand-up comedy.
Anne Richmond is an actress, singer, and writer living in New York City. Armed with a BFA in Theater from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts where she trained at the Playwrights Horizons Theater School and The Experimental Theater Wing, she continues to work in the theater and the burgeoning field of new media. She is a founding member of Box Full of Wasps Theater Collective and one of the creators of the upcoming webseries, O-Cast ©, a show she also produces, costume designs, and performs in. (http://www.annerichmond.com, http://www.o-cast.com)
