Before we get to today's interview, I
thought you might enjoy checking out this
fun discussion at the
A.V. Club
about the worst Christmas songs. Also, soak in the football this
weekend because your Cleatus
the Football Robot Fan Fiction entries are due Monday at noon.
Today I chat with a colleague of mine from the wonderful world of live
Chicago lit and wit. He's one of the most passionate, ferocious fans and
producers of the genre, serving as the producer and host of the
wonderful series Write
Club, wherein writers thrown down like it's a boxing match. I read
once and lost in the first round and hope to return one day, if not to
win, at least not to pout like a jerk. He's also contributed to fine
reading series such as The Paper Machete, the Encyclopedia
Show and Funny Ha-Ha. Lately
you can find him on the web blogging at the new advice site Irby + Ian.
You can find out more about him here. He's an awesome kind of grouch,
sort of like a younger, more handsome Louis Black, the kind of guy you
don't want to cross but whose approval you do want to win.
What are you working on right now?
I have a novel for middle readers that's moldering away nicely, as well
as an idea for a play that, I sh*t you not, would win a Pulitzer if I
ever wrote the thing. Mostly, I write stuff to read aloud - I whorishly
do pretty much any show that'll have me. Chicago has an ass-kicking
"live lit" scene and there's a ton of cool shows happening, so I'm
pleased to be included. Or maybe I'm just afraid people will read my
sh*t wrong unless I read it TO them.
What's Irby
+ Ian, and why was it begun?
irby+ian is a thrice-weekly advice column that's a collaboration between
myself and National Treasure Samantha
Irby (who requires both that I describe her this way, and that I
capitalize it - our agreement is quite airtight on this point) for those
among us who rankle when confronted by the damp, dewy, limp, Oprah-fied
avalanche of tips-n-tricks that clog newsstands and your inbox all the
damn time. irby+ian is advice for jerks written by *ssholes. New post by
me on Mon, Sam on Wed, and co-post on Fri. If you like your advice
unsparing, foul-mouthed, sharp-tongued, and most of all
hi-f*cking-larious, irby+ian is your go-to source. You can write in with
your burning questions to what all and sundry concur is the best email
address yet devised by the mind of man: blackgalafianakis@gmail.com -
just please, for f*ck's sake, do NOT expect an earnest or well-intended
answer. Misspelled jusssssssssst enough to dodge a lawsuit.
At Write Club, how often do you have to deal with bad sports who
were unhappy with the results of the competition? (Aside from myself.)
Never, really. The charity angle short-circuits that a bit, I think.
There've definitely been people that have not been stoked about the
outcome, but there's never been any John McEnroe-style vitriol. If
anything, most are raring to go for another future round. This is what
they tell me to my face. What they really feel I could not tell you.
I'm blatantly trying to start something here but how would you
say Write Club is superior to somewhat-similarly-formatted Literary Death
Match?
Space does not really permit me to fully enumerate the superiorities.
But I can outline a few that I think are key:
- WRITE CLUB (all caps, please - WRITE CLUB is always yelling) is way more interested in cross-pollinating between forms (theater people share the stage with comedy people, and lit nerds throw down against improv and sketch people).
- LDM is a series of essentially static readings, with "wacky show stuff" between/around them and the competition element feels tacked-on to me, since the stakes are unclear; whereas WRITE CLUB is leaner, more tonally consistent, more mindfully curated show - the competition is not a popularity contest, it's a battle of opposing ideas, of the skill of the opposing writers, and the stakes are a share of the show's proceeds to a charity of the winners' choosing.
- LDM is primarily concerned with perpetuating/advancing LDM - WRITE CLUB is, too, obviously, but it ALSO has an abiding interest in doing good in the world. WRITE CLUB's donated about $5K to charity in Chicago, more in Atlanta, and its just launched in San Francisco. I have no idea what happens to the $ from LDM - I won it the last time it was here, and I didn't see a dime. I think Todd Zuniga, the impresario of LDM, pockets the money for capering around in his ironic jacket.
- I don't talk smack about the artists who have volunteered their time and talent to do my show, which can't be said about LDM.
- Zuniga seems in my view to substantially overestimate how funny he is.
- Zuniga as host - my opinion - seems kind of above-it-all. I play around with the audience, for sure, and try to grant them license to interact with me between pieces, but I am also intent on showing each person kind enough to consent to do my show to their best advantage. I also have designed a show that attempts to maximize audience good times - never more than 80 min; sometimes there's free candy; always ace talents on the bill. Plus I am actually funny.
There's
plenty more, but that'll do for now. If he wants to throw down, I'm his
huckleberry.
In general, what makes for a good reading, aside from quality
performances?
I've talked with other pals in the scene, notably Robbie Q. Telfer of The
Encyclopedia Show, and Christopher Piatt of The
Paper Machete (names, dropped!) about the role of what I've
come to regard as "curatorial intelligence" applied to booking a show.
You obviously want the smartest, talented-est, charismatic-est
individual writer/performers you can get, but you ALSO must consider the
interplay between them, and the balance of the entire bill. I think
there are some shows (which shall remain nameless) that don't pay
sufficient heed to the arch and shape of the overall show, to create a
cogent and satisfying evening, rather than just a laundry list of
performers.
The stuff that I find most surprising and gripping involves novel ideas,
and a degree of deftness - leapfrogging between ideas/tones/shades of
emotion. I intentionally make no requirements of form - there've been
poems, stories, personal essays all in the same show. One of the
exciting aspects of the show is the degree to which a smart, engaging
person at a mic can surprise an audience - it's what I'm after in
watching any show. I want my ass kicked in a good way. I want a punch in
the brain.
There seems to be another Ian Belknap
around on the internet, one who also has dramatic experience. What do
you know about him and have you made contact?
I found that poor bastard shortly after I joined faceborg. He's a
theater director - seems a nice enough kid. Prior to coming to my senses
and pursuing the dying art of literature, I logged a couple decades in
the dying art of theater (between these, I did standup for a couple
years, which obviously I had to stop, since people actually like and
care about comedy), so I know a ton of people. This year there was a big
national theater conference in town, which my wife - ace director Hallie
Gordon - attended. She met him and he said he'd been getting
"YOU'RE not Ian Belknap" all week long.
I tend not to read at Funny Ha-Ha because I
can't handle the possibility that a performance at my own reading
series might not bring down the house. What drives you to read at Write
Club?
There is the mortifying possibility of tanking at one's own show, yes.
But for WRITE CLUB to work properly, I feel it's important to have skin
in the game. I lose WRITE CLUB bouts all the time. My record is
atrocious. There's a couple reasons for this (assuming I don't totally
suck, which I'll leave to others to assess for themselves):
- It's my show, so audiences are not as inclined to vote me victor.
- I always pit myself against the writer who in my estimation is the biggest killer of the bunch. It makes me better. I may not win, but it makes me better over time. And it makes a better show.
In recent memory, which of your own
personal reading performances seemed to be most successful with the
audience, and why do you think that was?
I brought WRITE CLUB to the Decatur
Book Festival in Georgia, and there was a fair bit of excitement
generated by my unsavory piece, which I think was inspired mostly by the
fact that Georgia is a more polite place than Chicago, with
sensibilities more prone to tweaking.
Last year, on my birthday, I was seized by the urge to write a manifesto, which I did. I posted it on my blog, then got invited to perform it at a benefit for The Neo-Futurists, where I used to work (administrative, not as an artist). I was really proud of that one, and it seemed to really land with the audience. Here's that one. I wrote a new manifesto this year, and held an invite-only reading at the Hopleaf, which was pretty awesome, too.
But the
one of recent vintage that seemed to generate the hottest response was a
piece I did at
Paper Machete - - that really seemed to rally the
crowd/tap into some barely submerged "yeah, f*ck that guy [meaning
Franco, not, me]" energy that they may not have even known was there.
This was borne out because it's probably the piece that's gotten
shared/passed around by friends/others. I'm maybe at my best when I'm
super pissed about something. And if James f*cking Franco doesn't piss
you off, then you're not paying attention.
What have been some of the more questionable charities Write
Club winners have donated to?
None. People take the charity obligation/angle of the show seriously.
The only ethical question that's come up is sometimes combatants want to
name a non-profit they work with. I say this is fine/admirable. I've
worked in non-profits for like 10 years, I know how f*cking tough it is.
Each of them needs all the damn help it can get.
What are your responsibilities at The Paper Machete
and the Encyclopedia Show?
I have had to recuse myself from Encyclopedia - I just don't have the
kind of time the show deserves. But for about a year, I was a member of
the cast, in the role of Fact Checker, which is a foil/heavy for the
hosts. I basically just listened to everybody's piece and said douchey
things. I was like a cranky academic figure intent on pointing out
fallacies, etc.
For Paper Machete,
I'm an occasional contributor with the title Dean
of Mean. I'll take a topic or trend or public figure and try my
damnedest to tear them a new *sshole.
If money and family ties were no issue, do you think you'd stay
here in Chicago or you'd explore your career elsewhere?
Chicago is a little frustrating in that there is this abundance of
mind-blowingly talented people, none of whom make a living by making
art. I know you can do tangentially related activities that can generate
some income - actors doing voiceover, etc. - but there is no money to
be had from making the work itself. Or if there is, I suck ass at
finding it. It's not exclusive to Chicago, obviously, but it's more
pronounced here than on the coasts. Part of the problem with the kind of
work I specialize in (live lit? solo performance? raconteur?) is that
there's not the same level of clarity about it that there is for other
branches of the arts. You tell people you're a singer and they get it.
You tell them you do personal essays that you perform live that are sort
of in the vein of This American Life, maybe, a little bit, and
you've lost them.
There's this
selflessness on the part of Chicago artists - partly I think because
improv is so ingrained here - that's both really inspiring, because
people are always willing to make work without much consideration for
money or exposure or any kind of "careerist" objectives. There's way
less ego here than any other place I know about. Which makes it an
amazing place to make work, but an abysmal place to try to earn any
portion of a living. I moved here from New York City, and that place
exerts a pretty potent draw on me still - the velocity and intensity of
it I find pretty addictive. L.A. could crack off and drop into the
Pacific tomorrow and I would lead the nation in a victory lap. When
London fame comes a-knocking, I will answer the door, though.
But: school-age kids, wife who has an awesome job doing what she loves
(she's Artistic & Education Director for Steppenwolf for Young
Adults), etc. conspire to keep me here for the foreseeable.
Thanks to your titles at The Paper Machete and Encyclopedia
Show, you occasionally wield a persona that's a tad gruff. In
contrast, what's something that you get unabashedly squealy and excited
about?
This will sound totally limp and cliche, but my kids blow my mind. My
daughter, who's 8, collaborates with a classmate to write a weekly
newspaper about events in their class. Not for an assignment. Just, I
guess, to fan the embers of print journalism for the future. And she
writes and illustrates books. That are awesome.
And my son, who's 10, started playing saxophone this year, and while
he's obviously not Coltrane as yet - I'm hopelessly non-musical - but it
kicks ass to hear him practice. And in the summers, I coach his
baseball team, which is about the best goddamn way to spend a summer
afternoon that I have found.
If you and I are sitting across a conference table for a staff meeting,
my face is carved of stone. If you are a baby I encounter at the
airport, I can easily become a rubber-faced spaz for your amusement.
And my wife does artistic work that is not merely beautiful - which it
invariably is - but that has a huge impact.
And Louis CK. I would take a f*cking bullet for that guy. Some friends
got together and got me tix to see him last year. Front row at the
Chicago theater. Total chowder pants for yours truly.
What do you want for Christmas?
Louis CK to consent to do WRITE CLUB. Can you make that happen? Can you
get his people on the horn? Because I would sh*t a cinder block if that
came together. A cinder block of joy. Corn-speckled joy, but still.
Who would you have chosen for People's Sexiest Man Alive 2011?
Serious answers only, please.
Not that Cooper clown, I can tell you that. I know the Gosling kid's got
a lotta heat around him, but he's not seasoned enough for me. If you
even try to float those vacant-eyed children from the goddamn Twilight
movies, I will push you to the ground and call you a halfwit. I
gotta go Clooney. I know - this choice wins zero points for novelty. But
LOOK at the guy, man. He makes Jon Hamm look like a burn victim whose
facial reconstruction was badly botched. Clooney is a full-on buffet of
delish.
How does it feel to be the 298th person interviewed for
Zulkey.com?
Good news for you, Claire: bottom of barrel reached. You may discontinue
scraping.