Reflecting deeply on David Lynch's recent passing. I was reminded of how experimental and abstract my film-making and my comedy used to be.
I remember after assistant directing for David Razowski at Second City Detroit, my improvisation became wildly bizarre. I felt like I could justify any madness that entered the scene. It wasn't about getting laughs or even building scene work but stretching a part of my creativity that I hadn't tapped in ages, like a kid who finally figures out how not to fall off a skateboard.
Prior to that, I was a good dog. I played very clean, very grounded, very open, but I was a very judgemental improvisor. I played a certain way both at River City Improv (my early training ground) and SC Detroit, and in service to that judgement, I lost part of my creative thread that drew me to this work in the first place.
However, this new way I played was not satisfying to my potential cast mates, and as I sought to re-calibrating my expression, I alienated myself from the ensemble. I could feel their reticence to play with me, but I didn't really care. I found the greatest freedom to take big swings in scenes I directed and taught. Through that I was able to refine my voice.
Now my improvisation is a honed version of both styles, both grounded and wild. Connected and abstract, toggling comfortably based on what the scene is telling us it is.
David Lynch talked about ideas as the core building blocks to everything, any story/film/piece you are creating. And they come from outside of us. To catch "Big Fish" or ideas, you put yourself in a state of openness to receive and wait for it to come. I wonder if the way I was playing happened at the right time, to keep me from "advancing" in terms of career, but advancing creatively. I still was trying to discover my voice. And main stage can be a good place to do that, but it can also not be.
I wrote 3 shows in Detroit on the main stage, but I didn't truly find my voice until Second City Cleveland, thanks to my amazing ensemble, my stellar producer Maria Corell, and our audiences who were always down for whatever. There I found my star player, my satirical point of view, my anger and my charm, all there in Playhouse Square with my insane collection of talented misfits who I still consider my family. And as it closed it's doors under our feet, I felt that I had really found my voice.
I guess it wasn't meant for that venue to continue on. It was made for something else. Catching the next big fish. Go west, young man.
What is something you have done in your journey that when you reflect on, it's both a pinch point or sore spot, but also where you achieved growth? I'm so curious to hear about your story as well! Please share!!