Week three of Sketch Comedy 101 at the Upright Citizens Brigade. Conversation between class members seemed easier. And then someone blurts out to our teacher, Charlie, “See, we’re talking.” This of course killed the whole good buzz that was happening. Luckily we got it back as the sketches again this week were very good.
This week’s assignment involved creating a character sketch. There are a lot of interesting folks in this world – so many that at some points in my life I’ve begun to wonder if those people are normal and I’m a bit left of center. Unfortunately, my memory was failing me badly this weekend. I couldn’t think of a single funny character to write about. Last week the other sketches were so good, and mine was certainly not, that I felt an intense pressure to write something hilarious. I wracked my brain for ideas, started to go down a path, and realized all roads were heading toward decidedly un-funny destinations. I was explaining the situation to my friend, Kelly, whom I was visiting in Buffalo over the July 4th weekend.
I threw out an idea of a Brain Storming Session Gone Wrong. I’m intrigued by how often that term is thrown around in some companies by senior management. I thought it might be funny to have a CEO who’s the least creative person on the planet running a session with his highly creative direct reports, and then shoot down all of their ideas in favor of his own lunatic suggestions. Kelly agreed that that could be a fun sketch, that it probably happens to people more often than not, and I could make a go of it.
So I did and it was funny. Very funny. So funny in fact that the man reading the CEO character was laughing too hard to get the lines out. This was a good sign for my writing and a vast improvement over last week. And then other people in the class were joining in with new ideas to heighten the comedy even more. Now I know why writers enjoy this form.
Here’s the learning: Take a cue from the very idea of brainstorming sessions and put every idea out there. I’ve suggested many ideas that fell flat once I put them out into the world. I’ve kept my suggestions to myself only to have someone else say the same exact idea and get a big laugh. And I’ve made some suggestions that don’t sound all that funny to me though once I get them out into the world, they go over well.
Comedy, more than any other art form I’ve experience, is a living, breathing entity. You know immediately whether or not it’s good because laughter, in the best possible case, is uncontrollable by our conscious minds. We have no idea if something is funny until we act it out for others and gauge their response. It requires that we ban together with other people to create something valuable; a good lesson to consider, with far deeper impact on our lives than just the act of writing sketch comedy.
Next week, we’re scheduled to present commercial parodies. With all of the good fodder out there on the airwaves now, the trouble will be deciding among dozens of choices which one will be most likely to get the biggest laughs.
Author: Christa Avampato
The short of it:
Writer. Health, education, and art advocate. Theater and film producer. Visual artist. Product geek. Proud alumnae of the University of Pennsylvania (BA) and the Darden School of Business at the University of Virginia (MBA). Inspired by ancient wisdom & modern tech. Proliferator of goodness. Opener of doors. Friend to animals. Fan of creative work in all its wondrous forms. I use my business skills to create passion projects that build a better world. I’ve been called the happiest New Yorker, and I try hard to live up to that title every day.
The long of it:
My career has stretched across Capitol Hill, Broadway theatre, education, nonprofit fundraising, health and wellness, and Fortune 500 companies in retail, media, entertainment, technology, and financial services. I’ve been a product developer and product manager, theater manager, strategic consultant, marketer, voice over artist, , teacher, and fundraiser. I use my business and storytelling to support and sustain passion projects that build a better world. In every experience, I’ve used my sense of and respect for elegant design to develop meaningful products, services, programs, and events.
While building a business career, I also built a strong portfolio as a journalist, novelist, freelance writer, interviewer, presenter, and public speaker. My writing has appeared in The Washington Post, The Huffington Post, PBS.org, Boston.com, Royal Media Partners publications, and The Motley Fool on a wide range of topics including business, technology, science, health, education, culture, and lifestyle. I have also been an invited speaker at SXSW, Teach for America, Avon headquarters, Games for Change, NYU, Columbia University, Hunter College, and the Alzheimer’s Foundation of America. The first book in my young adult book series, Emerson Page and Where the Light Enters, was acquired by a publisher and launched in November 2017. I’m currently working on the second book in the series.
A recovering multi-tasker, I’m equally at home in front of my Mac, on my yoga mat, walking my rescue dog, Phineas, traveling with a purpose, or practicing the high-art of people watching. I also cut up small bits of paper and put them back together as a collage artist.
My company:
I’m bringing together all of my business and creative career paths as the Founder of Double or Nothing Media:
• I craft products, programs, and projects that make a difference;
• I build the business plans that make what I craft financially sustainable;
• I tell the stories that matter about the people, places, and products that inspire me.
Follow my adventures on Twitter at https://twitter.com/christanyc and Instagram at https://instagram.com/christarosenyc.
What does Dr. Helen Fischer have to say about love?
Good question! I’ll find out tonight at the taping of an ABC News Special that Barbara Walters and Dr. Helen Fischer are co-hosting with chemistry.com. The event will take place at Mansion, a new venue in Chelsea. 50 men / 50 women – all from similar backgrounds and looking for love. This sounded a touch wacky at first but the opportunity seems so intriguing that I couldn’t possibly let it pass by.
Dr. Fischer is an anthropologist at Rutgers University, and she studies the brain in love. I figure if she has made her life’s work to find out how and why people fall for one another, the least I can do is add myself as a data point to her research. In January, Barbara Walters will present an hour long ABC News Special on Dr. Fisher’s forthcoming book, WHY HIM? WHY HER? Understanding Your Personality Type and Finding Your Soul Mate.
Maybe I’ll find the love of my life, or even just get a few good dates out of the evening, and at the very least I’ll collect some good stories.
Nothing Worse Than Silence
I started a Sketch Comedy Writing class knowing I’d be the least funny of the students. Part of my motivation was to meet writers, and I figured all of us could use a little more humor in our lives and in our writing. We write every week and then read our work out loud for everyone to hear.
My first piece was too short and not at all as funny as I had hoped it would be. I got a few polite smiles, and maybe one line that got a true laugh. Otherwise, it fell flat. To be fair, the class is relatively quiet – I’m assured by our instructor that ALL sketch writing classes are quiet. But if that’s the case then I’m having a hard time understanding why he brings that fact to our attention several times per class. Every other sketch piece was far funnier than mine.
Part of me just wanted to throw in the towel. And then I thought of my friend, Brooke, who has recently transitioned from stage acting to TV / film. She’s studied TV and film with conviction for nearly a year. And she goes to auditions not with the intention to book a job, but to improve, to feel that her investment of time in learning this new art form is worthwhile. Some people are naturally funny in that Saturday Night Live sort of way. I’m not — I’m going to have to work at it. And the good news is, well, I really have nowhere else to go but up.
I’m in the middle of preparing my next piece – a character sketch. Time to dig out the memories of all those weirdos I’ve had the privilege to meet…they’re finally coming in handy.
Dancing Around the World
In graduate school, my friend, Eric, showed me a video of a guy named Matt who was making a living dancing around the world. I loved the video when I first saw it, and had tucked it away into the recesses of my brain. Just recently, the cobwebs were dusted off when I received a post on my Facebook account application, Fun Wall. My friend, Jules, sent it to me, and I passed it on to all my friends. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlfKdbWwruY.
“Where in the Hell is Matt” is a series of videos set to inspirational music that chronicle Matt’s own little dance around the world. There’s so much joy and community in this series of videos that they make you smile and reach for your passport. It just goes to show that individuals with passion and open-hearts can accomplish whatever they set their minds to.
To see all of Matt’s videos and learn more about him, visit http://www.wherethehellismatt.com/index.shtml
Waking the Dead – Reviving "Has-Been" Brands
In college, I had a boyfriend who loved Herbal Essence Shampoo. He wasn’t part of the target demographic, but he loved one of the scents so much that he just couldn’t imagine his morning shower without it. Despite this kind of following, every brand eventually grows old and stale if left untended. A.G. Lafley, CEO of P&G, says there are three routes for a dying brand: Abandon, Divest, or Re-invent. In the case of Herbal Essence, he chose the third option. I’m sure my former boyfriend is thrilled!
The P&G team didn’t perform any miraculous feats – they tightened up the demographic, modernized the packaging to stand out on the shelf and encourage the dual-purchase of shampoo and conditioner, and re-vamped the language with more current vocabulary and inuendos. This easy-to-understand process is allowing the fledgling brand to gain sales growth in the high single digits. Not bad, and certainly something not common in the current economy.
Process aside, I think A.G. Lafley is saying something much richer about product re-invention. It’s easy for product developers to fall in love with their product as is, for marketers to admire their own catchy phrasing and campaign themes so much that they can’t imagine anything more brilliant coming down the pike. For example, let’s consider the highly creative and relevant campaign by the Dove Brand – Campaign for Real Beauty. The simplicity and power of that statement resonated with a wide audience. That campaign has been around for a while, so much so that it’s beginning to become old news, especially in the wake of the touch-up work done on some of the campaign photographs. Those marketers need to be thinking about a re-invention now!
This is the trouble with brilliance that explains why we have so many one-hit wonders in this world. You have to let go of past successes as much as you have to let go of past failures in order to move forward. Product re-invention requires a constant, fervent belief that our best work is yet to be created. It requires that we push the envelope and challenge ourselves continuously. To take away that challenge and rest on our past success is to go the way of Sharper Image, Brim, and Tab.
For a look at the interactive case study on Herbal Essence’s re-invention, visit http://www.businessweek.com/managing/content/jun2008/ca20080617_465490.htm
Working alone, together
With the ever rising cost of commuting and increased pressures on our time, more and more companies are open to team members spending one or more days per week at home. I’m very lucky to have this type of deal – whenever we have a half day at work, I work from home provided there isn’t some pressing reason that I must be in the office. I’ve often spent that time at home, alone, in my studio apartment in front of my laptop.
Recently, I’ve found myself seeking outdoor areas, cafes, even the occasional bar (only after 12 noon of course) that lets me set up shop. At first, my motivation was that a new setting would inspire some creativity, would afford me a different outlook. Then, I chalked it up to craving the nice weather or air conditioning. After a conversation with my friend, Moya, I know what’s going on. I want to work independently, but I also want to feel some sense of community while I work. Luckily, I am not alone in this pursuit.
Last week, the New York Times ran an article entitled “Working Alone in a Group”. It spelled out this situation of telecommuters – grateful for the opportunity to not have to commute to work, but wanting a space other than home to get their jobs done. Telecommuters want a little company, a wi-fi connection, and a comfy chair. They don’t want distractions. And they’re willing to pay a little for it. The article provides a website that allows you to search for co-working spaces by zip code.
The article goes on to detail a couple of the key areas in the Bay Area that offer this type of space, and then notes that what it all comes down to is moderating the distraction level. I think there’s something more though – having other people around us, even if we interact with them minimally, drives our creative pursuits. We are social beings, and while we may enjoy some degree of solitude, we also need to balance that solitude with a sense of community. Give this idea a couple years, and we’ll see co-working spaces popping up in every neighborhood.
Innovation is an investment, not a cost, not a luxury
In case no one else has told you, the sky is falling. According to an article in the New York Times today, we’re going to hell in a hand basket, at least for the time being. This puts people like me who work in the innovation field into a bit of a bind. I whole-heartedly support (actually vehemently encourage) employers to consider how and how much each member of a team adds value. I’ve seen too many companies burn money in the street because they’re uncomfortable with asking every team member to articulate how they add value. And companies are worse off for it.
What I do object to is the idea that areas such as innovation, product development, and research are luxuries. Prada shoes are a luxury. Gourmet meals at 5-star restaurants are luxuries. Innovation, product development, and research are a company’s lifeline to the future.
Paull Young from Converseon sent me a blog post yesterday that is so good, I have to pass it on. http://bankervision.typepad.com/bankervision/2008/06/innovation-is-a-luxury.html
In the post, James Gardner, who works in innovation at a UK bank, talks about the five ways that innovators within companies add value. And suggests that if we wants to preserve our place within our companies, we should develop each of these five areas: invention, influence, entrepreneurship, thought leadership, and sponsorship.
The trouble I see is that areas like innovation are viewed purely as a cost – a nice to have if you can get it for $0. Bad idea. Innovation is an investment. Over time, it generates cash flow and does wonders for getting the best and brightest minds to beat down your door to play a part. And with tough times ahead, that talent is the only way a company is going to save itself from going under.
Picture above can be found at: http://www.aqua-aerobic.com/images/aquaology_innovation.jpg
Philadelphia
“I quit being afraid when my first venture failed and the sky didn’t fall down.” ~Allen H. Nehart
On my way to DC yesterday, my train rolled past Penn, my undergrad alma mater. We had a little engine trouble so we were stuck at 30th Street Station for about 15 minutes. Penn is right there, just over the bridge. I began to tear up as I looked at those buildings that were so familiar to me, or at least used to be. I was surprised by this response. It stirred up some emotions that I hadn’t thought about in a very long time.
I learned some hard lessons at Penn. I had my heart broken, really broken, for the first time. I began to get over the loss of my dad and all of the fallout that affected my family thereafter. I learned about failing. My first quarter I got 2 A’s – Ancient Rome and a German Studies call titled “The Third Reich”, and I got 2 C’s – Calculus and Physics. Problem was I was in the engineering school, not a liberal arts major. (That changed after year one and I graduated with a double major in economics and history and a minor in psychology.)
At my first orientation meeting the very first cute college guy I ever met asked me, “Are you a Ben Franklin scholar?” And I replied, “I’m not sure. How would I know?” He walked away. I learned about hierarchy and for the first time was exposed to a type of class system. Among a lot of “haves”, I was a “have not”.
And for the first time I had people all around me of different races, ethnicities, religions, and socioeconomic levels. These people around me had traveled all over the world while I’d never left the area of the eastern seaboard between Connecticut and Washington D.C. They spoke multiple languages, fluently. They had the best of everything, always. I was a fish out of water.
I grew up in a very small town that was about 95% white, Italian Catholics who mostly got by paycheck to paycheck, and a few with a bit more than that. Most of the town was covered with farms and grassy areas. I could count the number of stretches of sidewalk on one hand, and the number of traffic lights on the other hand. We often left our front door unlocked. I spent the majority of my childhood, save for school and my after-school jobs, outside. I was an athlete, a musician, and graduated top of my class. I was a star and I knew it.
At Penn, for the first time in my life I learned to live in a place that has more cement and blacktop than grass. My freshman dorm had bars on the windows. I lived in a community that had homelessness and where some sort of violence was a daily occurrence. I had food that was Indian and Ethiopian. I was not the top of my class – actually, I wasn’t even close. I was in the bottom quartile for sure. And I was smart, very smart. It’s just that everyone around me was much smarter, and I learned to study, very hard, all the time. I learned about striving to be the best, and not reaching that goal. So I learned to live with disappointment. I learned about failing, and getting up, and trying again, and failing again, and so on. In truth, I spent most of my college years lost.
At Highland High School, there was a lot of coddling. In my entire hometown there was a lot of coddling. At Penn, you had to make your own way. No one was holding your hand. There was no lifeline; there was no hope of finding a lifeline no matter how hard you looked. I always felt like the subtitle of the school should be, “You’re on your own, kid.” I was scared.
But I also found a lot of strength here. I found that I could get through anything. Even if I didn’t do that well on an exam or a paper, no matter how tired I was, the sun came up the next day. The world soldiered on, and would continue to do so with or without me. The parade was going to keep going, and if I wanted to play a part in it, I needed to get out there and keep up. Or else go home. And I couldn’t go home; I wouldn’t go home, so I joined the parade.
I discovered theatre and the true art of collective creativity while at Penn. I learned about being open to the world and what it, and everyone in it, had to teach me. I learned about getting new dreams when the ones I held to for so long weren’t coming true. I learned how to improvise and began to learn how to express who I was and what I was about in a sincere, articulate way, sans whining. I learned that while the world may be tough, I could be tougher, without losing my sense of empathy and sensitivity. And I learned that community is not thrust upon you or gifted to you; you have to create it everyday. I learned to question everything regardless of the source and the supporting chorus behind it. I learned to care for and search for the truth in everything.
Most importantly I began to learn how to curate and build narrative. The seeds of my writing life were planted at Penn, even though it would take a decade before they truly began to grow. I got a hefty dose of tough love there, and though I didn’t know it at the time, it was exactly what I needed. At Penn, I grew up.
On my graduation day, my friend, Derek, gave me a quote in a frame that perfectly summed up Penn for me. “Years from now, you’ll come back and hang a plaque. This is where Christa began being what she can.” When Sondheim wrote that in Merrily We Roll Along he of course didn’t have me in mind. Derek added my name in there. But the sentiment holds true. There’s no plaque Penn yet, but in those halls and on those grounds I did begin to be what I have become, and will continue to become. I learned about how a life evolves and changes and grows, and for these hard won lessons, I am eternally grateful.
What is Apple Without Steve Jobs?
I’m a little bit disturbed this afternoon. My boss sent me an article from today’s Fortune Magazine regarding the fate of Apple should Steve Jobs be hit by a bus. There are a myriad of comments flying around on-line about who would be best suited to take the reigns. And then I flipped through the candidates. I was surprised, no shocked, that one glaringly obvious problem with the article was never addressed. Every single one of the *11* possible replacements for Jobs is a white male, and 10 of those are middle-aged. (Jonathan Ives appears to be the one young face in the crowd). Out of 11 hopefuls, not a single woman, nor a single racial minority, and only 1 person who isn’t half way through his working life? How can this be? If that’s truly the case then I think Apple indeed has something to worry about.
And I’m not trying to stand up for some kind of quota system. I’m not even talking about what’s “fair” or “socially just”. I’m concerned that with Apple’s lack of diversity at the top, they are short-changing their future. And they’re putting their “cool factor” at risk. Who’s their biggest growth market? Hasn’t the success of Silicon Valley been driven by diversity of experience and thought, by people who “dared to be different”? If anything, that line-up looks like every other corporate board room of a company that’s struggling to get by in this crazy economy.
Before Jobs decides to exit, I hope he’ll take some time and really look at his A players, and then do something to build up those who don’t fit the same-old traditional brand of American CEOs. I hope he’ll be thoughtful about the experience of women as his team members and as his customers. I hope he’ll consider how a range of ethnicities interact with and utilize technology. And for goodness sake, I hope he bets on youth. His legacy depends on it.
Searching for the Next Einstein
There is a profound belief in the West that if we throw enough money at a problem, the problem will ultimately go away. I’m not sure how or when or by whom this misconception was started. I do know it runs deep in this country, and recent world events have shown its fragility.
I read extensively about Africa and the circumstances that many of the nations on that continent are facing politically, economically, and socially. Recently I heard an NPR story covering integrated schools in South Africa where students don’t feel safe because of ever-rising racial tensions. In the New York Times I’ve been following the campaign of Morgan Tsvangirai, the man who dared to challenge President Mugabe, and then dropped out due to the threat of violence. Yesterday I was reading a story in Sierra Magazine about Ethiopia’s optimism, a story chronicling the long-overdue arrival of contraceptives that are allowing women and girls to take more control of their lives.
The one topic I don’t hear much about in relation to Africa is science. Yes, in a roundabout way the topic is addressed via food shortages or medical relief work. Science education isn’t touched. With great excitement I learned about a program initially sponsored through TED, NextEinstein. Neil Turok, a brilliant cosmologist and education advocate, was honored with the TED Prize, and thus was able to use TED’s incredible network to announce his one wish for the world and receive support to bring that wish to life. “My wish is that you help us unlock and nurture scientific talent across Africa, so that within our lifetimes we are celebrating an African Einstein.” Essentially he is saying that Africa must solve Africa’s problems if those solutions are to have longevity.
In 2003, Turok, who was born in South Africa, founded the African Institute for Mathematical Sciences in Muizenberg, a postgraduate educational center supporting the development of mathematics and science across the African continent. The website http://www.nexteinstein.org/ was just launched about a month ago and the movement is looking for help in the form of donations, media talent, creative business consultants, educators, and infrastructure.
This effort is about helping entire nations lift themselves up and propel themselves forward. African nations have been down-trodden for too long, dependent on aid that is always too slow to arrive and never substantial enough. Neil Turok is building a program for Africans to help other Africans. There is more to those nations than disease and war and social ills, contrary to so much of what our national media covers. It is a continent rich with possibility and talent and heritage. Now the question is how to mine that potential so that the outcome is even more elaborate than Turok’s dream. To lend a hand, visit the TED Prize website.
