Wednesday, September 3, 2008 by John Robison.

Topic du jour: What do I expect to get out of the upcoming Kansas City Improv Festival?

Complex question, which must be split into three parts for me:

1. What will I personally get out of it?

2. What will my improv troupe get out of it?

3. What will my theater get out of it?

1. Personally, I’ll get an extra chance to perform, which I am always glad for. I’ll also get to see some of my favorite local troupes all performing in the same weekend. I don’t get a chance to see shows too often, and I’m going to love to be able to see so many shows at one time. Also, because the festival is in town, I’m going to be able to have a workshop with the lovely and talented Jill Bernard with Improv-Abilities on Sunday. I’m really looking forward to that.

2. The troupe will get exposure to an audience they wouldn’t normally have access to. We usually perform in a different area, and I’m fairly confident that 98% of the audience will be seeing the Roving Imps for the first time. It’s possible that the troupe might get a mention in the press, which would be nice, as we’ve never gotten any kind of critical statements (positive or negative) in any press of any kind. There’s been show announcement information, but never an actual review-type statement. It’s also nice that some members of my troupe are going to be able to take part in the classes offered by the nationally known improvisers. I can’t wait to see what they bring back.

3. I am not expecting the Roving Imp Theater to get anything much out of the festival. In fact, I expect that on the whole, my theater will be hurt by the festival. *Warning… pessimism ahead*

Though a bunch of people will be seeing the Imps for the first time, with so many other groups happening at the same time, I don’t expect any of those audience members to be converted into Imp regulars. It would make me super happy to be wrong, but I just have to be realistic. I’ve upped my chances a bit by having an ad in the program, but I’d consider it to be a great coup if even one or two new folks stumble in because of the festival.

While the festival is happening, I will still be having separate shows… I still have the space, bills to pay, and a “show every Saturday” reputation to maintain. Such a huge improv festival will certainly impact my audience (as well as performers), and since the festival is all happening at Union Station, I have no choice but to remain open and present great quality shows. How do you compete with Jason Sudeikis, after all? We’ve got folks just as good, but nowhere near as famous. Time will tell, but with two Saturdays in a row pulling away improv audiences, I’m not expecting September’s numbers to be good.

Of course, it’s possible that the festival shows will be so good that it will create an immediate demand for great improvisation, and as the only improv theater in the area, the festival audience will flood toward the Imp, causing more performance opportunities to open up, and making this the highest-grossing September for years to come. Probably not, but there’s a tiny part of me that actually believes this will happen.

So to all the troupes out there… blow some folks away. It’ll do us all some good.

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Wednesday, August 27, 2008 by John Robison.

I finally have a few minutes to write after an embarrassingly long time absent from the ol’ blog. It’s been a busy time, with a ton of performances (including with some new groups), rehearsals, classes, and even a little bit of non-improv-related activity. I apologize to any of you twisted individuals that might actually look forward to reading this little posting. The rest of you… what are you doing here? Go back to John McCain’s website.

I wanted to present a theory of structuring the world that works pretty well for me when it comes to developing suggestions into initiations. I’ve presented this theory in my classes before, to some looks of confusion, and some looks of absolute and sudden clarity. Stick with me here.

Imagine the universe. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

Now, I’d like for you to move the universe to one side. On the other side, imagine a giant roll of chicken wire. Then unroll it, so it’s a great big sheet. For you city folk, chicken wire is basically a grid of wire arranged in a honeycomb-type fashion (that’s right… hexagons. Now imagine that this chicken wire is truly three-dimensional… so that there are hexagons extending out in every direction.

Now overlay the two images you’ve been holding in your mind. You should now have a picture of the universe that’s been separated into a handy, hexagon-shaped grid pattern. The universe is a bit expansive… go ahead and zoom in to something you’re more familiar with - say the room you’re sitting in right now. Do you still see your hexagons? If not, take a moment to re-establish those hexagons all throughout the room.

If you’ll now notice, the hexagons connect you to everything else in the room. If you were sitting where I am, the hexagons would be connecting you to the computer monitor, a box of tissues, my mortgage payment, my iPod, a roll of tape, two scripts, a bookshelf, a box of Star Trek merchandise (a long story), shoes, an ABBA CD, a fan, bottles of wine, my own fingers, etc. etc. etc. You get the idea. It’s all connected.

“That’s cool, John… what the hell does it have to do with improvisation? All you’ve done is cause me to have a brain hemmorage, and now I no longer recognize my own cat. Also, what kind of man has a box of Star Trek stuff next to an ABBA CD?”

When I’m on stage and I hear a suggestion, I use this segmented and connected universe to help lead me to scenes to play. I don’t like to use the actual suggestion in the scene if I can help it. If it’s the first thought in my head, it’s probably what the audience is expecting, and I don’t like to give them what they’re expecting. Humor comes from the unexpected, after all. So… I follow the grid. Zip along the grid, and see where you arrive.

Say the suggestion is “home office.” How convenient. I immediately establish my home office grid in my mind, and see which direction my mind takes me. I could do a scene starting with any of the items mentioned above, and in almost every case, when I tie it in with the original suggestion, I will be doing a scene about something the audience wasn’t expecting, while still being true to that suggestion.

You can do this with any suggestion. May I demonstrate a little from my own personal mind grid?

Suggestion: Album - ZZ Top - beards (initiate with “Man, I’m thinking of going easy rock.”)

Mean - Tina Fey - Saturday Night Live (initiate with “I’d like to check in. I’ve just been fired from Saturday Night Live.”)

Park - kids - blocks (initiate with “It’s only natural materials for my kid’s playground, Bess.”)

With practice, you’ll get quicker and quicker. For those of you with a structure-hungry mind, you may find this a great technique to use that’s more concrete than “Go with your second thought.” It’s a technique that’s plenty flexible to apply to almost any situation.

Caveat: This won’t work for everyone. Some people will find that this technique does nothing but puts them directly into their own heads, where they will not have fun and they will no longer be a productive member of the improv team. If you’re one of those people, I hope I haven’t contaminated you, and I hope I come up with a good technique for you one day.

Everyone else… give this a try in your next rehearsal. See what happens. Let me know what happens. Did you love it more than anything? Did you think it was absolute rubbish? I want to know. I have a feeling it might be more than just me that Improv String Theory appeals to.

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Tuesday, August 5, 2008 by John Robison.

The Imp Creation Story, Part 2:

I searched for an appropriate building for a long time. I looked in all parts of the city. My target area at the time was somewhere around 75th & 1-35. However, it soon became apparent that any type of commercial property in that area was going to be WAY out of my price range. I found a building I really liked that was just on the Kansas side of Westport. I loved the building. It was perfect. It was $400,000.  The only building I was able to find that both had potential and was in my price range was on the main street of Bonner Springs, about 20-30 minutes west of Kansas City. However, I wasn’t able to reach a deal with the owner that we were both happy with.

So I decided to chill out for awhile. It was the beginning of November. My thinking was that if I waited until after the first of the year, the market would have changed enough that more buildings might be available for better prices. After a month, just after Thanksgiving, I got a call from the owner of the building in Bonner Springs, a man in his mid-60s originally from Italy. He said, “I haven’t heard from you… what’s going on, you don’t like foreigners?” I shot back, “Foreigners I’m OK with. It’s the Italians I’ve got problems with.” Within another two weeks we’d hammered out a deal. It turned out that time had done a lot of the negotiating for me, and it was a lot easier this time. The only real consideration at that point was that the building wasn’t in the center city. However, it did have two apartments connected, with potential space down below, so there was a guarantee of income. I decided to go ahead, reasoning that if you have a quality product, people will come to see it no matter where it is located. Also, Bonner Springs was something of a cultural void… ready for the planting of cultural seeds that will one day be ready for harvest. (By the way, so far, the “build it and they will come” approach has worked out OK…)

We were scheduled to close on March 1, 2007. I was super freaked at this point, as everything that had before been a pie-in-the-sky fantasy was suddenly terrifying stark reality. It was all going down, and I was the one in charge of it. At that point, my thinking was that we needed to get up and running as soon as humanly possible. We would have the building, and we needed to start the operation of the business so we could start revenue streams. (or at least revenue trickles.) I set the completely insane “what the hell are you thinking” deadline opening date of April 7, 2007. That’s right. One month. One month to remodel the inside of the building, do marketing, assemble a performance team, advertise for classes, and implement the business plan. It was the most thrilling, frightening, exhausting, exhilarating month I have ever lived. It was terrible, hard work, as we had to completely gut the interior and rebuild it in our chosen image. Once we decided on the final layout (we chose our third option), we started working in earnest. I’ll never be able to repay my two brothers, sister, or wife for that month. Two walls came down. Three walls went up. Two bathrooms materialized. A new ceiling went up. The seats got moved in and attached, despite the guy at the U-Haul threatening to burn my house down in the middle of the night because I had the gaul to complain that he’d overcharged me. (Yes, that really happened.) A big complex light box went up into the ceiling. The stage got built. The sound system went in. Advertisements went into newspapers and online. I talked to everyone I knew. Some really kind people came in and helped construct and paint. Rehearsals happened. I remember a few of those early rehearsals when we rehearsed in a small corner of the room because it was the only space that was clean enough in which to exist.

On some level I must have known that it was possible to do. Because we did it. There were a ton of weird city-specific regulations that nearly hung us up at the last minute (it was boring enough living it… no need to re-create it here), but we opened with three mini-shows followed by snacks and chatting. It was a great night all around. Were the shows great? Probably not. But they happened. Everyone has to start somewhere. Not bad for a group that had virtually no experience doing improv. The original group of six included me, my sister, two people I’d met doing a musical the previous summer, a friend that I’d met doing a show, and he later performed in something like four improv shows, and some random teenager that happened to wander in. That first show was fun and energetic, if not the most artistic thing to ever hit the world. The important thing is that we have gotten better since then, by several magnitudes.

I’ve learned a lot about everything since then, not just about the art of improvisation. For example, I’ve found that newspaper advertisements for me are just as useless as posting flyers. Both are activities I really pursued with gusto in those early three months. Neither produced as much as a single audience member. I’ve learned that I need to not indulge my artistic temperament… just because I’m excited about something doesn’t mean I should immediately devote all resources towards that goal. Nowadays I put forth the idea, sit on it for a couple weeks, and then make plans to implement it two or three months down the line. This is the reason that I plan all my shows and activities at least three months in advance. It prevents me from getting excited and jumping into some foolish and fun notion.

I’m sure there’s a ton more for me to learn. As long as they aren’t painful lessons, I welcome them. Even though it was a really tough time, there’s nothing like watching a dream come true to feed your soul. Even when my soul was covered in drywall dust, paint, sweat, and more blood than I care to remember, it was still smiling. Even though financially I will certainly never be the same, one day when this theater is rolling along at an acceptably successful level, I’d consider opening another one - at a much slower, more careful, better planned and better funded pace. Don’t tell my wife. She’d leave me.

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Tuesday, July 29, 2008 by John Robison.

When it comes to feedback and directing a group, is there such a thing as being too blunt or too nice?

No brainer. Of course. There are multitudinous levels, and it’s tough to pick the right level for the right group. I always, always err on the side of too nice. It’s just my personality.  There is a time for bluntness, but it is entirely possible to do it in a nice way. I consider myself to be quite good at this, when it’s important. Be blunt, but be nice, and be realistic. As someone that works with a lot of beginning improvisers, there are a ton of things you just have to let go. I like to focus on one skill at a time, and let other things slide for awhile during that particular training time, though it makes the ol’ skin crawl. I also tend to think that being too blunt destroys the sense of safety that you’re supposed to have in the rehearsal space. You just can’t overwhelm people with too much, or they’ll get discouraged.

The improv workshop is not the place for survival of the fittest. It’s not a competitive sport. In competitive sports, you have a concrete goal (sometimes literally), and a concrete strategy to make it to that goal. There are tried, tested, and true strategies for making it to that goal. There are a particular number of spots available on any particular team. The individuals with the best skills to achieve the goal make it. Everyone else is cut. Period.

In improv, there is no particular goal. Our whole deal is that each time, you’re going to see something different; you’ll get a different experience. In sports, you get one of two experiences: Win/Lose (or in the weird sports, Tie). In improv, there are an infinite number of possible goals, and an infinite number of possible ways to get there. Since this is the reality we’re living in, I believe you should be supportive in helping people to discover their own best way to be successful the majority of the time. Being overly blunt would imply that your personal style is the best style, or the only style, and would mean that you’re ignoring and dismissing alternate ways of doing things. Well, who the hell are you? Depending on the person, we might end up with a whole generation of performers that do nothing but poop jokes. Taking a more laid-back approach may take longer, true, but you’ll end up with more diversity on stage, and an overall more interesting experience.

In the end, that’s the real reason for erring on the side of niceness. We’re trying to grow interest in the art of improv, and you’re not going to do that with verbal abuse. If you don’t preserve the sense of fun, openness, and diversity, beginners won’t come back. Sure, I could make people think that I’m some sort of crotchety improv genius, and that it’s a privilege to work with me, so they should just put up with me… but holy crap - that’s no way to live your life. There’s enough negativity in the world without adding it to improvisation.

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Tuesday, July 22, 2008 by John Robison.

Grammar note: this post replaces all gender-specific pronouns with “them” or “they.” Many apologies to those of you whom this grates upon. 

After a period of time, people naturally fall away from your group for a variety of reasons. As the person in charge, I constantly try to make sure that the theater is an environment people love as much as I do, so when someone leaves, I always go into a mode of “OK… what could I have done better?”

The reasons people give for leaving are just like the reasons people give when they break off any relationship. “It’s not you… it’s me.” I have a tendency to not believe that reason… at first. However, taken on a case-by-case basis, I find that the reasons people give are generally genuine.

At this point in Roving Imp history, over the past year, I’ve had a total of 22 people who have at one point called themselves an Imp. Of those, I still have 13 as active members. So over the first year and a third, that’s a drop rate of 41%. I have no idea where that might be in the whole spectrum of first-year performance groups with bi-weekly performances… at most points, it has seemed high. Right now, it doesn’t seem so bad.

As examples, here are the following real-life reasons, along with my suspicion of the real reason, with all names taken away, as I still really like and respect these people.

Person A: Stopped coming, and then said they had to quit to take care of familial obligations.  I think this one was true. I knew something of their personal life, and think this one was honest. Hooray!

Person B: Said they had to quit to take care of familial obligations. I think this one was also true. It seems that having to quit because of family changes is a common one.

Person C: Just stopped coming, with no communication at all. I have no idea what the reason might be… other than the fact that this person lived kind of far away. Maybe they didn’t feel like they fit in. Who knows? I would like to know. I do know that the “let’s avoid confrontation by just not going anymore” is the most frustrating for me. Lots of people have done it… and why not? For the person not coming back, it’s a super easy way to do it. No fuss, no muss, no risk. For me, however, it sucks the Royal Teat. I realize that you’re a performer, and not necessarily organized, and not necessarily prone to good communication, but if you know you’re not coming back, just let me know so I stop wasting mental energy on you. I hope they aren’t dead.

Person D: Just stopped coming, and said they were going to come back once things settled down with their personal life. This first part was true. Their personal life was all over the place, though they still haven’t come back. I will take this opportunity to put forth my Absence Theory: In my experience, if someone that has been a regular in your group leaves and is gone more than a month, they’re not coming back.

Person E: Just stopped coming. After a couple months, I happened to run into them, and they said their job switched days, and that they’d like to come back once that changed. Probably true… but they still haven’t come back. See the Absence Theory.

Person F: Got too busy. I’m pretty sure this is true. This person is very talented, and very busy due to the fact that they seem to have a tiny issue with overcommitment, much as I had when I was in my early 20s… when I would say yes to almost anything.

Person G: Got another acting job that would take them away for six months. I have no doubt that the reason is true, but I have doubts that they will return. We shall see if Absence Theory holds up.

Person H:  Left due to the fact that they got a job with a national touring company. I’m pretty sure it was true… it was too specific of a story to not be, and there was no reason to not be truthful.

Person I: Said their schedule was too busy. I suspect this statement was masking the actual reason. I was super relieved when this person made a point of thanking me for making them feel so welcome… Another group I have performed with has lost talented folks by not making them feel welcome or included. The day one talented person announced they were leaving, I talked with them and they said, “John, you were the only person my first day that came up and talked to me and went out of your way to be friendly.” That statement alarmed me, as I hadn’t realized that I had done anything… and I hadn’t realized that others weren’t talking to them. Since that time, I’ve tried to be super aware of including new folks and making them feel welcome.

So out of the nine, only one gave a reason I suspect to not be completely true, and one just disappeared. I like to think that I have an open and communicative atmosphere with the performers I work with. Other groups I work with get the old “I’m taking some time off,” when I think they were really feeling “I’m not having as much fun as I should be,” or “I’m not feeling necessary and/or appreciated.” I can think of five such examples of people using that reason in other groups in the past year. Have any of them returned after their time off? Please refer to the above Absence Theory. It hasn’t been proven wrong yet.

I never like it when someone leaves, but I understand that this kind of crazy life isn’t for everyone. Lots of people don’t realize it until they’ve been doing it for awhile. Weekly rehearsals and performances don’t fit into everyone’s life forever. Generally, I’m glad I got to share some fun, quality time with them, and wish them luck. And secretly hope that one day they’ll return, despite any theories to the contrary.

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Tuesday, July 15, 2008 by John Robison.

It seems like a long time since I’ve done a scripted show… although I did two last year. However, it’s been since August of 2007 since I directed and acted in “The Complete History of America, Abridged.” The other show of last summer was “Basehor The Musical 2,” which I was commissioned to write by the Basehor Historical Society. Writing a show is something that I really enjoy and detest at the same time. I love the process of creation, but don’t really like the fact that I am pretty well cut off from society and my family for large chunks of time. I seem to write best when I do a lot at once.

To date, I’ve written three full length plays, a musical, a one-act play, and now a one-act musical based around a couple’s love for the musical “Mamma Mia.” This last one just got finished this past Sunday. It was kind of a rush job… I had about a week to write it, and we’ll have a week to learn it before performing it this weekend. Just as with most of my others, I’ll be the writer, director, and male lead. It’s not that I think I’m all that, but it’s really tough to find a talented male actor of the right type that not only can sing, but is available at the right times.

So, this is the reason for the abbreviated and/or absent blogs of this two to three week period. I’m desperately trying to memorize lines (another love/hate relationship), learn songs (which I love), and learn choreography (mostly just a hate relationship).

This is why I don’t do scripted shows very often anymore.

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Monday, July 7, 2008 by John Robison.

In most respects, the creation story of the Roving Imp is unspectacular and unimportant. Boiled down, the whole story is “I was tired of scrounging for space and being hasseled by the man, so I bought a theater.” As with most things, however, if you dig down, there’s more just beneath the surface story.

I’ve written before about the community theater group I created just out of high school, the Better Than Fair Players. This group was together for eight years, performing all over Bonner Springs, Basehor, and Shawnee, in churches, schools, rec centers, and even outside. Toward the middle and end, we were doing five shows a year without an official permanent home. Each show was another negotiation for space. Each rehearsal represented another day of completely setting up the stage from scratch, rehearsing, and then completely breaking everything down and loading props back in cars and stowing sets in an out-of-the-way place. It was during this four-or-more-times weekly exercise in frustration that the seeds were planted. Yes, like 50% of all actors, I got the completely original idea, “We should have a theater of our own.”

Unlike most, however, I began to do some research, and I began to look for an appropriate space. After about a year of looking, I found a place I really liked. I put an offer on the building… and it fell through for various reasons which may or may not have to do with the fact that the seller had just emerged from prison. After another six weeks, I found another place. It wasn’t as ideal, but I thought I could probably make it work. I put in an offer, but the deal fell through, as it had problems with sewers… mainly the fact that it wasn’t connected to any.

At that point, my personal life sort of imploded for awhile, and to say that the theater search took a backseat would be a gross understatement. My main focus in life at that point was to try to save my marriage (which didn’t work, by the way). After that little disintegration occurred, I decided to expand my horizons by doing some shows in the big city of Kansas City for awhile. It had been eight years, after all, since I had done a show for someone else… I’d been directing my own shows since I was 19 years old, and I thought it might be a good idea to go learn from other directors.

I did a couple shows, and quickly found out that those other directors should really be learning from ME. The directors I worked with were great people, but did not live up to my own standards. I wanted specific feedback and a consistent, coherent vision for a show. This is not too much to ask, but I didn’t get it. (This is not uncommon, from what I have heard, unless you work with certain specific directors.)

Though this foray into “big city theater” was disappointing in certain ways, it really opened up my world in other ways. First, it got me known as a person that knew what he was doing. I quickly got hired to direct shows in town, and found that my directing skills transferred very well from the small town to the big(ger). Second, it introduced me to the world of improv.

I had done improv before. I had even taught improv before. However, I had never before been plugged in to the “world” of improv. I had always before been the one that had known the most about improv in the room (which was not much, FYI). But when Full Frontal Comedy took a chance on me (due completely, I think, to a funky made up dance I came up with in a show), I found a group of really talented, funny people that I didn’t teach and that I wasn’t responsible for. I learned a lot from that group, and made a lot of great friends that I have to this day.

At about the same time I found FFC, I also went back to school to get my master’s degree. The combination of FFC, a very special moment in an entrepreneurship class, and a pivotal conversation with my (new) wife’s sister resparked this idea in my head: I can open a theater now. Not only that: I MUST open a theater.

I quickly mapped out the pros, cons, and things I would need to do before it would be possible. The main thing I needed: a true pedigree from a respected place of improv. So I signed up for classes at i.o. in Chicago. i.o. has the style of improv that is most like the style I like best. Yes, Second City is better known, but has the philosophy that improv should be used as a tool, whereas i.o. founder Del Close always maintained that improv is an artform by itself.

Chicago was fantastic. It helped me in ways that I could never have imagined. I am now a completely different kind of improviser than before I went: a good one. I consider the majority of scenes I do now to be successful… because now I have the experience to recognize why things go awry. Maybe that’s a different post.

Anyway… now I had the experience, knowhow, and the credentials. Now for the hard part… making the theater happen.

To be continued…

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Thursday, June 26, 2008 by John Robison.

The importance of a group’s name… it can be summed up in one really old quote:

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.”

To me, a troupe’s name is one of the least important things to worry about. With so many other considerations to think about during the formation period of a group, putting a great deal of energy into a troupe’s name isn’t that efficient. It is however, a little important, and worthy of at least a little thought. Gotta call it something, after all. I think that the groups I’m currently in would be just as successful with any number of different names, but a group name does help clue in your audience of what kind of experience they might expect.

Aside from my personal aversion to having a number as part of the group’s name*, any group name is on the table for me. When I look to name a new group, I try to get something either fun, badass, historical, descriptive, or some combination of said descriptors. Which of these I choose depends on the circumstances that surround the group.

Evidence the groups I have personally named, and reasons for such names:

Better Than Fair Players - my original theater group, so named as a group of us were sitting around at our original venue, the Wyandotte County Fair, wondering what name we should give ourselves. Fun, Historical, and Descriptive… just in case we had a less-than-stellar show (which only happened once in eight years, to my recollection).

Roving Imp - the current theater group and improv troupe, which came from a huge list of about 150 possible names. This was the only one my wife and I could agree on… and she wasn’t that big of a fan of it at first. We settled on this one for not only Unusual, Fun, and Subtly Descriptive reasons (since improvising is the main activity, which some people call “improving,” it’s a small leap to separate into two parts - imp roving - and then reverse - roving imp), but also because there were a lot of possibilities for marketing and logo creation (which has been described by journalistic professionals as “badass”).

Game Show - This one is completely Descriptive. Maybe I would have had better luck with a better name, but I doubt it. It seemed important to me to distinguish this from an actual improv show, which make up the majority of the rest of the RI schedule.

Movie Prov - Also completely Descriptive. Since it’s not an improv show per se, I owe it to my audiences to let them know.

Trivial Prov-suit - a little Fun, but mostly Descriptive. The play on words spoke to me.

Omega Directive - The newest group at RI, I chose this one mainly for Badass reasons. However, it’s also Subtly Descriptive. OD will use the one-sentence episode synopsis as the basis for its shows, and Omega Directive is the title of a particular episode of one of my favorite series.

Red Rubber Ball - Another RI group that will premier soon, RRB was basically chosen for its Fun connotations. The name implies energy and good times, which would be great for an audience to expect.

Others might have different ideas, but to me, it’s much more important to put on a good show, regardless of name. It doesn’t matter if you have the coolest name on the planet… if you suck, it won’t matter.

* - not to say I shudder when I see groups with numbers in their names… but if I had a group called, for example, Omega 6, I would tire of people asking things like, “If you’re Omega 6, why do you only have five people?” or “Are you part of the Omega 8s?” There’s a group from Washington called onesixtyone… I think. They might be oneeightyone or oneseventyone or something.

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Monday, June 23, 2008 by John Robison.

This started as a response to a blog Trish posted about opening a theater.  (see http://kcimprovgeek.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-it-takes.html )

My response got to be too lengthy… and that’s why I have a blog, right? Seriously, though, read hers before you read mine.

Just so you know, this post is somewhat less optimistic than my personality usually likes… but it’s real.

From someone else that’s been there… there’s nothing on Trish’s list I disagree with. My experiences (so far) are of course a little different, but it caused my eye to twitch a little when I saw my week laid out before me on this blog - because not only do you have to do each and every thing on the list… but you have to do them WELL.

I did purchase my building, but did it primarily as a real estate investment. If I didn’t have the rent coming in, and if I didn’t live in the basement, then there’s no way in hell this whole theater thing would pay for itself. The only way I could figure to make it work (at least in the short term) was to make sure I didn’t count on ANY income from the theater. Thank God I have a wife with a good corporate job that is completely understanding about following a dream and contributing to the art of the world.

And even though I have an MBA, which helped me figure out how to do all this non-creative crap, I still made a bunch of mistakes due to the fact that this was my first ever business venture. Those mistakes (and the cost of starting a business) led me to the edge of financial ruin, but through luck and personal grit, the edge is getting a little farther away all the time. As I’ve said on a number of occasions, it seems that there is a reason that most business owners are old white guys. They’re the only ones with the money to be able to start something. This is why my theater might lack the spit and polish of your average million-dollar performing arts venue. No cash for chrome, but plenty of heart and plenty of good entertainment.

Trish… you’re correct. People that want to do this are truly insane… I never claimed mental stability myself. This whole “starting a theater” thing has caused or exacerbated a number of the most fierce non-death issues you can face in society: problems in my marriage, bankruptcy, foreclosure of my previous home, the near evaporation of a social life, and owing money to my family which I swear I will pay back one day.

And I can predict the responses, because I know how I would have responded. I would have said, “Well, those things won’t happen to me. I’m smart enough to avoid those problems.” Maybe you are… but what about all those problems I managed to avoid? There were lots. Zoning… Water meters… the pouring of concrete… insurance… remodeling… the list could go on. These were all areas which could have easily derailed me, but I was smart and/or lucky enough to be able to sail through.

I don’t want to sound like a naysayer, but this gig isn’t for everyone. However, if you’ve read these horror stories and Trish’s, and still have starry eyes, then do it. If you’re got it in your head, then nothing will stop you. I was the same way, and kind of still am, even after everything. How can I resist helping a kindred soul? After all, I think I’d still do it again, because the final product fulfills me in ways that nothing else could do. (OK… one other thing, but you can’t do that all the time, in front of a crowd of paying guests.)

The thing I was the most unprepared for - You’re going to need at least $10,000 in the bank, depending on what you want to do. It took me about that much to get my space ready… from transportation of the seats I got for free to the purchase of the lights & sound to materials to build walls, the stage, the green room, the lobby, the restrooms, etc. I had to have more since I was purchasing a building, but you might not be doing that. You also have to have a strong, yet extremely flexible personality, to be able to make the tough choices, stick by them, and then completely change them when circumstances change, which they do nearly every other day, especially in the beginning.

Unless you’re a lot richer than I am, you’ll need to either possess or know someone that possesses good construction knowledge. Contractors are hugely expensive, and I saved a ton by having a wonderful family with great knowledge. If you look at my hands, you’ll see that they’re lined with scars, some of which came from the demolition/construction process. I had none of those skills, and am now trying to forget the ones I gained. There’s no stress like it. It changed me… I’m more cautious than I was. I don’t jump willy-nilly into projects like I used to. There have been many nights spent awake figuring out a problem, and other nights spent alone with tear-stained cheeks in a room, surrounded by past due notices.

Sound bleak? I think most of the population would be utterly mentally destroyed by this process. It was tough for me, but the whole time, my light at the end of the tunnel was in sight… the dream of a theater… the dream I’d had for over a decade. Each show, event, class, or workshop I host here in my little theater helps make the trouble worth it. Each dollar that comes in the door is one less dollar I have to scrounge for. Each laugh and each smile helps heal the mental strain I remember so well. The year I opened the theater - last year- was the worst year of my life. But I’m glad it happened, because though this year is only halfway through, it just might be the best year… thanks in part to the ol’ Imp upstairs.

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Thursday, June 19, 2008 by John Robison.

People may not believe this, but I’m actually not someone that seeks out the spotlight, especially in large groups of people. My ideal environment is a smallish gathering of about 5-15 people. The huge gatherings in Chicago were many times bigger, which put me in my usual “big party” role - that of observer and listener.

I met a lot of people. I hung out in clumps. I listened a lot. Every now and then I’d ask a question. Not everything we talked about was improv, but of course, that was a topic that was discussed a lot, as everyone in the room had the same passion… and there’s nothing like talking to people who are passionate about something, especially when it’s something you’re passionate about as well.

I talked to some folks from Washington, D.C. who perform at the Washington Improv Theater. I had seen them in shows earlier in the day, and was really impressed with both groups that came from WIT. So, I talked a little, and listened a lot, and one conversation has altered the way that I will run the Roving Imp from now on. The folks at WIT have several ensembles, each separate from one another, performing at separate times, yet all call the same place home. This is a really simple concept, and I had of course thought of doing this before… but Washington is much, much bigger than Bonner Springs, so my “let’s get a whole bunch of groups together” idea was on the back burner. There’s a shortage of players, coaches, and time with my family, after all.

I don’t remember exactly what it was in this conversation that sparked my new idea, but I remember exactly when it happened. It was one of those perfect moments of clarity, where you’re mystically at one with the universe, and you can see the whole of existence spread out before you, and the fibers that connect it all. Those moments last only a second at most… but in that second, it became clear. The time had come to branch out.

We’ve been slowly growing toward multiple Roving Imp groups. We’ve begun Trivial Prov-suit. We’ve had the High School Showdown. But now, I was ready to  formalize and expand. I came home from Chicago and started brainstorming. I then coalesced my ideas into concrete goals. I laid out a plan to expand into eight different Roving Imp productions by the time April 2009 rolls around. Huge step, eh? In April 2008, we had two groups - the Imps and the high schoolers. What makes me think I can get six more in one year? Maybe I’m just a megalomaniac. Maybe I’m crazy like a fox. Only time will tell.

The Imps will continue as we have been. They’ll perform twice a month, half short form and half rotating long forms. Trivial Prov-suit will continue. We started in May, and it’s one of our most promising shows. The high school program will continue, and hopefully expand (that’s another topic altogether). We’ve added Movie Prov, which we start this Saturday (perhaps another topic as well). I’m also in the process of casting a new elite longform group called Omega Directive, which will take television episode synopses as suggestions for the show. Ideally, the show will not resemble said television episode at all. I’ve just started talking with another improviser about reviving our two-person longform show, Dictionary Soup. So far, two weeks after Chicago, I have six of my eight groups in the works, and things are not progressing too quickly to handle. I have ideas for two more groups, but we’re going to just sit on those for awhile… we’ll let these other groups have a few shows first.

I’ve recently cast a whole bunch of new talented folks, and they’re all terribly excited about all the opportunities to do some shows. It’s my hope that they will get to perform a lot, and will also be driven to go see the shows of the other ensembles as well. I’ve arranged rehearsal schedules to overlap somewhat, so that when we go over longform technique and good improv tips, the groups are able to share their strengths and weaknesses, performing together. I also am looking forward to creating ensembles that develop critical eyes. As they work together and watch each other, they will eventually be able to give good feedback as they watch from the audience. Performing all this quality improv week after week will cause people to take notice. We’ll attract additional talented improvisers, more students, and more audience. Of course, that’s more long-range. I don’t expect miracles by April 2009… but maybe some of the groundwork will be laid.

There you go. Pie in the sky dreaming. Two months from now, everything might self destruct. But you never know if you don’t try. If we’re going to make Bonner Springs into an oasis of improvisational art, we’re going to have to try a lot of ideas.

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