Accidents
make me proudest. Of course, accidents shouldn't make me proud
because they are, after all, accidents. So maybe pride isn't the
emotion. Gratitude. Accidents make me feel gratitude. But I'm proud
of my gratitude for those accidents. All very non-Buddhist, probably,
but anyway.
Regardless,
lately I've been feeling especial pride about a part in my show. It
came from a rehearsal, years ago, back in the Early Years of Butt
Kapinski. I was trying to make sure the people watching the rehearsal
understood what I was saying, and I asked them if they were clear,
but because of Butt's speech impediments, it came out as "queer."
And it was funny, but it also ended up being incredibly important
thematically, as the show developed to be queer, the character is
queer, the audience is queered.
So
at every show there's a moment early on when I ask the audience, Is
everyone clear (queer)? And I wait for everyone's
delightfully-multilayered affirmation that yes, they are clear, and
also, yes, in a way, they are queer, or willing to be for the course
of the show.
It's
not unusual that someone pipes up at that point and says they're not
queer. It feels defensive, but not necessarily aggressively so, just
testing. So I clarify for that person that I'm really making sure
that they are CLEAR, as in, comprehending what is going on (but yes,
it still comes out like "queer"). And at that point, they
tend to give in (or on rare occasions, realize that this is the wrong
show for them, and duck out, god bless).
Lately
I've been thinking a lot about consent, and I realized recently that
the reason why I love that Is everyone queer moment so much,
and why I'm so grateful I accidentally found it so many years ago, is
because that is a moment that seems to get consent from the audience.
It's not conscious on their part, necessarily, but I do think this
moment is one of the reasons why everyone gamely plays along. They
just feel asked, somehow. And they feel like they've said "yes."
Now,
just because they've said that they're "queer" does not
mean that they have given consent to do the other crazy things that I
ask audience members to do. They have not agreed, in that moment, to
hit or kiss me, to sit on other audience members, and so on. I have
to get consent for those things too.
That's
more complicated. That's about sensing, hinting, approaching with
caution. If you're paying attention, you can tell who's up for it.
There are those who are sitting there looking delighted, those people
are definitely up for it, and maybe too up for it, depending
on what you need from them. There are those who are really focused on
you, you can feel their intense level of presence with you, those
people are up for it too, but they may not be as
crazy-from-the-word-go as the first category. Sometimes this second
group is the best group, because their level of playing along is a
bigger surprise. Then there are those who are kind of with you. They
might give you what you want, but they're more of a gamble. And of
course there are all the shades in between these groups. Audience
members are individuals. I have to treat them as such.
"You
also get away with doing what you do because you're a woman," a
male comedian friend once said to me. "I'm so jealous of you
because of all the things you can do to audience members that I
can't."
And
he's right about that! Ha ha ha, patriarchy! When it comes to getting
away with unbelievable levels of audience interaction, female
performers can wipe the floor with their male counterparts! We win in
this arena, girls! Centuries of being oppressed has made it far
easier for us to dominate our audience members and have them like it!
It was all worth it, after all!
It's not just a gender thing (even though it often is). A woman could still be a bulldozer, hypothetically. It's just that
she usually isn't. Because consent is something a bitch knows in her
bones. So female performers do tend to naturally be more gentle in this
way. And men can be subtle if they want to. I've seen plenty of that. They can't do all the
things that a woman might be able to do, true, but they can dance
along that spectrum, they can flirt with the same boundaries. They
just have to be cautious motherfuckers. In this and all
things, dudes!
There
is a mistaken assumption among some performers who interact with the
audience that by buying a ticket and sitting down, audience members
have given consent. But they fucking haven't. They agreed to sit down
and passively absorb entertainment and clap at the end. They did not
give consent to be hauled up on stage or to be made fun of or to any
way be a part of your show. That's not to say they won't, I'm
just saying, they haven't yet.
There
are loads of ways to get consent, right?
Just
get it, that's all I'm saying.
This is the answer to the question I would have wanted to ask after yesterday's show. Your approach seems to unlock so many things in my brain now, not only as communicating with audiences, but also in writing and planning the conceptual side. I may come back and disturb you with this newborn enthusiasm.
ReplyDeleteI really, really, really love this post. I re-read it once in a while. Your show (Butt in Toronto in... 2013?) was the most surprising hour I've ever spent in a theatre (and I have spent many many hours in theatres). I was surprised at what you did, and how far you went, and most of all I was really surprised how far I wanted to go with you. I have seen a looot of aud-partic stuff and I usually don't enjoy it, so I was really delighted to be joyfully brought on board like that. And it was 100% because you solicited consent. Bravo to you!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for this comment!!
Delete