I recently did two shows, the likes of which I will document for you here.
About two weeks ago, I did a college show. Now, you know how I feel about college shows. Actually you probably don't, but here's a helpful, yet condescending reminder. So one was a college show and the second was a bar show. Ah yes, the versatility of the stand up experience! From the glowing halls of universities lit with lamps of knowledge to the Miller-lighted, wood-paneled taverns of sports spectatoring! To be fair, the college show was an outdoor luau event. There was nothing academic about it, son...unless you consider "Cupcakes for the Cancer Cure" and free t-shirts educational!
Neither show went quite as spectacularly as anyone hoped (speaking on behalf of the organizers, myself, the other comedians, and the audience members), but I think we all had unreasonable hopes involving mild success. However, the pertinent question was raised: How do you make the most of a bad show (speaking only as a perfomer this time)? Now let it be known that I mean no offense to any of the show organizers involved here. Let's be honest, you can only control so much when it comes to the conditions of nature and human temperaments. Still though, is there any way to salvage some good from a show that occurs under less than ideal circumstances?
think outside the box!
photo courtesy of Flickr and kushwaha
[Hit the jump for foolhardy hypotheses, show rec(r)aps, blasphemous conclusions, and other assorted ballyhoo!]
1. COLLEGE SHOW
So this college's spring luau event committee made one costly decision. They expected the D.C. metro area weather to cooperate with their revelry efforts. Sierra optiMists! Fair enough if you're only about eating, drinking, and general behavior wherein communication is not a priority. However, the art of stand-up comedy solely depends on the ability to communicate "jokes" to an "audience", preferably a seated one, but hey, we're not choosy. So when I saw the small platform of a stage with a microphone (albeit a working one, thanks goodness) at the bottom of a giant hill (i.e., nature's own audience arena), and witnessed the scattered nature of the event, I started to feel a tid bat anxious (dyslexia intentional).
But when it was time for the show to start, a beautiful and attentive medium-sized crowd did assemble (shout out to flyering on college campuses). Unfortunately, right at about this time, also entered: A mighty wind. That's right. Cut to a small-scale Hurricane Higher Education. The MC handled it beautifully. He did some crowdwork with the kids, but also with the wind. From what I could hear anyway, and he generally got the crowd on the same page as the stage. Two comics later, people were starting to leave, and I had yet to go up (the "headliner" of the evening, weehoo?!) By the time I was onstage, I couldn't even hear my own voice let alone speak the start of a premise without some huge piece of equipment losing its footing behind me. Buckets were rolling (you can cross them all off yer bucket lists), signs were flapping, people were huddled together into one large amoeba of warmth. Needless to say, I lost my bearings several times, both in my set and literally onstage because of the turbulence. The remaining crowd was magically supportive and the organizers were thoroughly apologetic afterward, but nonetheless, it still felt a bit like Stand Up Boot Camp. 
what a blustery eve it twas!
photo courtesy of Flickr and bcmom
My only thoughts are I could have done more wind jokes or pantomimed more vivid despair, in real time. This one seems to fall under the ever-popular "Just Suck It Up" method of handling difficult shows. I liked the "Is she going to fly away?" closer though. I might keep that. Oh! I should have also worn more layers.
2. BAR SHOW
So there were a few problems with this show, but nothing insurmountable. The show was inside! Huge plus! There was a working microphone. It was in the back room of a bar so nothing in the way of ambient noise pollution. The lighting was a little iffy. It was a new lighting system, and it still had some kinks in it. Other than that, the only poo factor was a typical one: small crowd. Not tiny actually, but not huge. But in terms of response, definitely a small crowd. There were some card-carrying non-reactors/default expressionists. And one back table was holding up the entire audience in terms of any audible laughter. 
this was NOT the crowd at the show
photo courtesy of Flickr and Sreejith K
This show plainly fell under the "I'll just have fun messing around" clause. Unfortunately, my "just mess around" skills need some severe work. I tried commenting on a framed picture of beer in the room, but that went flat quickly. I tend to deflate suddenly in the face of disinterest so of course, chalk it up to a learning experience (I have so many...me so lucky). I thought the other comics handled it very swell. In fact, the illustrious Jon Mumma did one of the most beautiful impromptu act outs I've ever seen where he went and tickled a grown man's belly in the hopes of eliciting anything in the way of a positive emission. Now that's commitment.
I realize this whole post comes off as extremely whiny and high-maintenance, but stand up comedy is a whiny and high-maintenance art form. Yeah I said it! I'll self-deprecate an entire art form if I feel like it.
Anyway, please share your thoughts about particularly trying shows, and whether you were able to emerge with both your dignity and your resolve intact. Links to previous blogs are acceptable, you lazy clods.
