Interview by: Josephine Clarke, Guest Writer
This interview is part one of The Grappler's Mess Fest Interview Series. Liz Joynt Sandberg is the director of Mess Fest and head of the Comedy Arts Program at The Theatre School.
What is the idea behind Mess Fest?
Mess Fest was conceived in response to a need. Dean Culbert and the rest of the season selection committee were expressing, “You know, we have a whole group of students that are gonna be new to the production process, [and] if they’re not new they’re going to be reentering these production practices and these spaces for the first time in a while.” And sort of confronting what was a hard and scary experience in quarantine and a hard and scary experience leaving the last time. So we’re in the land of trauma, we’re in the land of community care, we’re kind of in this space of “we need something that is flexible enough to meet a lot of different students in a lot of different places.” And so, the goal behind the festival was essentially: what if we make art from those messy realities of where we’re at?
Initially, we were talking about weirdness and enfreakment, and the initial inception of the festival was to call upon and do some reclamation work around the idea of a freak show. And then, immediately, we encountered the mess of that decision, which brought forth a lot of voices from people of different identities in disability, it brought forth voices of people of color, it brought forth voices of people who are neurodivergent. There was a really rich conversation around whether or not we wanted to work in that space, whether or not it was responsible to work in that space. We ended up casting a net out into the community to see what other names we could come up with, what other thematic things we wanted to work on in the festival, and the idea of being messy was something that came up over and over and over again. And so that’s how we decided to move in that direction. I just think it’s really important to tell that part of the festival’s history. Actually, the Mess was an acknowledgment of “Oh my god we haven’t even started and we’ve already fucked up.” But that’s kind of what this is going to look like.
How much did the students inform the process?
Entirely. This is an entirely student-led process. It’s so interesting because comedy is kind of allergic to authority. When you think about it, comedy is the art form that is exceptionally interested in and kind of in this weird privileged position of historically being able to speak the truth to power and have power be like, “Yeah they’re right.” Think about the White House Correspondents Dinner, think about the history of court jesters, think about this rich history of authority being finally willing to bend and neutralize hierarchies. Now that’s a really optimistic view, but essentially what that ends up looking like is that, yes, I’m directing this sketch show, but what that means is that I’m coming to these eight students who are writer-performers and I’m saying, “What sketches did you create this week? Let’s look at them. What is your intention? What are you trying to do comedically?” and then “Let me use my experience and expertise to try and make it more of what it already is.” Additionally, that’s the only show that I have a direct creative voice in. All of the other shows were things that students pitched. Devin and Lexi Hanna were like, “we want to create a show that’s about femme identified people being really disgusting and dirty and sexual. Can we make that?” Yes, absolutely! Mia was really interested in creating these drag aliens, and Sam and Robert were really interested in working with drag, so that evolved into Miss Intergalactic and that drag show.
Some of the ideas were like, “what if we made an academic comedy conference where people could give papers?” and then students were like, “Oh! But it doesn’t just have to be papers, people could also give TED-style talks” and then a student was like, “actually I think we should make a comedy event that’s all TED-style talks that are comedic” and then the projectionists are like, “can we actually make some of the presentations?" It really daisy-chained and students were really iterating off of each other and so what I did is took all of those student pitches, I talked to the students and I said “if we’re going to do this show, I need you to be the student lead on it, which means you’re going to be in charge of assembling the team that will help create this content, rehearsing it, figuring out how we’re going to get this from an idea in your head to onstage. Some shows have rehearsed probably fifty times, and other shows will have never met because they’re open mics or they’re sketch slams. One of the things I’m so excited about is that we created this comedy container and then students populated it with work that they were excited to make together.
What are you, as an educator, hoping that the students learned/took from working on the festival?
The main thing that I am hoping they take away from it is that they are capable and powerful. They are fully able to do this work and that their vision is a vision that they can accomplish with what they have. You might not be able to do it the way you initially thought, but you’re a comedian and an artist, so if your vision is a pirate ship, but all you have to work with are cardboard tubes, what can you do with that?
The other thing I really want students to learn is that messiness is not always a problem. The fact that something went different than what you expected is not always bad and it’s not always less than. Sometimes when things deviate from your expectations, they are wonderful and they are better than you could have ever imagined. And if you’re so busy controlling what you’re doing, rather than being present in the moment, trusting your skills, and making the best choices available to you in that moment, you’re only ever going to meet your own expectations. And that’s cool, but I just want students to surprise themselves.
What has been the biggest challenge of this process?
In some ways, practicing this with integrity. By which I mean, doing the things that I am asking students to do. I’m asking students to set their own boundaries and come from a place of being honest about their capacities, I’m asking students to do this work from a place of joy, I’m asking students to communicate generously for each other. I’m asking a lot of things and I’m realizing it’s very easy to ask students to do those things, and of course I realize this over and over in my creative practice, but doing that as an artist myself and as a person who wants to model a future that I believe in for these students and for all of this, that’s been a big challenge.
I come back to this story again and again. There was a day in our Mess Up! Rehearsal where we were on a break. Gaby Suarez, who is our stage manager, was sitting in the middle of the room eating a plum and as students would come back into the room, they all laughed at her. She just noticed this and filed it away in her brain. A few minutes later, rehearsal starts up again and I’m asking the cast, “I’m ready to hear some pitches. Who has a pitch for a new sketch?” And from the back of the room, we hear Gaby be like, “I have a pitch,” almost in this tone of voice where she surprised herself. Gaby explained the whole process, being like, “Well, I was sitting here, I was eating this plum, everyone came in and they laughed, I wonder if the audience would laugh if I did that.” So then we created this whole piece around letting Gaby test that hypothesis, which is such a part of comedy. We had to iterate on it because it turns out Gaby can’t take a bite of that plum onstage, so then another one of the stage managers, Sarah, was like, “I think I have an idea for how we could do this.” And it was a great idea! And I’m thinking, “this is what it’s all about.” The fact that there’s something about the way that we’re working that invites that, that empowers that, is really exciting and interesting to me. It doesn’t matter who it comes from. I have an idea, and I’m so curious about how this would work I’m just gonna say it and let’s try it. It might flop, but it might be the funniest thing in the show. We just don’t know until we put it in front of an audience.
What are you hoping audiences will take from the experience?
I hope that this festival will feel, in the most profoundly humanistic version of this word, like a blessing to this community. And maybe that will help us all as a community be together in so much uncertainty and so much revolution and so much pain, and trauma cause we’re working through a lot of different things. The other thing that I will say, is that I hope this community sees everything come to a grinding halt and realize that our response to that is gonna be to laugh together and love each other and fix the immediate problem.
Any further comments?
I am deeply grateful for the way the community has shown up and stayed present throughout all of this. I know that this is a challenging time, and I know this is strangely challenging work, and I’ve noticed that at every turn the community is like, “I’m not gonna quit. I’m gonna rest, I’m gonna express that I actually can’t engage in this way, and I’m gonna do what I need to do, but I’m gonna keep showing up and doing this work.” It gives me such boundless hope for the future of theatre and of comedy, to watch these students and the way that they just refuse to give up on each other. I think that’s one of the most gorgeous things that I’ve ever seen and I’m so delighted by it.
Josephine (she/her) is a third-year dramaturg. She is incredibly interested in dramaturgy and comedy and how the two intersect. Her practice is defined by flexibility and creativity, and she strives to make dramaturgy as dynamic as possible.
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