Gael's Erratic Pigeon Post | Loving louder
A newsletter about working, eating, loving and sometimes improv.
A newsletter about working, eating, loving and sometimes improv.
Hello friend and reader! Today, I’m just glad to write this before 6 months have passed, and I’m also excited to follow up on my (new-) new teaching project.
Today’s Pigeon Post is a lot about hospitality and the impression of self-worth, as I navigate this end-of-season slowly approaching: sometimes fascinating, sometimes overwhelming, most of the time both. I guess it’s still about being a maker, and making things happen out in the world.
There is even a super-secret project with Laura related to this, coming soon.
As usual, feel encouraged to answer to this Pigeon Post with anything you want, and if you liked it, feel free to share it with your friends!
THE IMPROV CHATTER
Last month I talked about how I will not be teaching weekly next season, at all. Or at least how that would be the case if enough people were interested in my Masterclass project. I've put a bit of context first, but if you're impatient you can also jump directly to what is happening now!
What and why and how?
As I’ve referred to in my previous Pigeon Post, I’ve felt quite overwhelmed this season, ending up not enjoying getting out of the house to go teach as much as I did for the last 15-or-so years. So as an attempt to slow down, I’m trying to not teach weekly and see how it feels.
Because of who I am—check out the Life Stuff section below—I needed to replace this with a more mindful way of teaching, going more in depth. So I created a 90h year-long program for next season, spanning over 9 full weekends, for ambitious improvisers. I was very scared to not have enough people interested in diving into this with me.
But then what happened?
Too many amazing people applied, and some more people reached out to express how much they loved the idea but the monthly rhythm wasn’t possible for them! I had to go through the excruciating process of saying ‘no’ to many amazing improvisers, and even though it’s a good problem to have, it definitely made my heart bleed.
The fear of putting things out without knowing how people would react is something to wrestle with on a daily basis as a maker. For this project, Laura was obviously my cheerleader when I told her what I intended to do, but even her admitted: ‘Phew, I wasn’t confident you would have enough people for this!’
I am beyond grateful for all the people that applied and it reinforces me to believe that there is space for longer deeper work and connection in our field, even when everything in the world seems to be focused on instant reward, consumerism and fear of commitment.
So what now?
The combination of all the applications, the multiple conversations with people that couldn't apply for this monthly formula, and Kathy—from the talented ImprompTwo—texting me 'Would you do another series every 3 month?', made me create an alternative to the Masterclass: the Superclass1!
The plan is: 3 times in the year gathering for 3 days with a group of ambitious improvisers. 45h in total to work on theatrical improv: my favorite bits and pieces of what makes me love it so much, some personal feedbacks and each time a yummy lunch by our Vegan Bear Chef.
And if this wasn’t enough, the sessions will always be put on a week when we also receive an international improviser at Flock Theatre: this way students that want to get a bonus can add a 2-day workshop with our guest, watch shows and just generally hang out with Flock!
Wait, weren’t you supposed to do less?
Well, as much as it doesn’t look like it, this is still me slowing down. But also I am looking to work differently. I’m craving for more meaningful work, going in depth with people that are excited to do so, to find my crowd, to belong.
The mere fact that I have brain space to write a bit, to invent new projects, to start re-working the entire Flock website, to think about a written show, to plan more regular Pigeon Posts, to consider trying out a solo, to want to make stuff happen again, all of that is a good sign. I’m not out of the woods yet. Burnout is still luring. Numbness is calling to absorb me. But it’s a good sign that I am trying things, believe me. 🥰
SOME LIFE STUFF
It is late at night in rainy London, we’ve just seen a gorgeous show and had drinks. It’s the first time that we are seeing each other in non-thermo-wool outfits, and the evening with Kristina and Sougwen was fantastic. As we are venting about the struggles of being an entrepreneur, when Sougwen suddenly says this sentence that hits hard and true.
If things are going smoothly, there is someone, somewhere, probably being overwhelmed.
Sougwen Chung, in the back of an Uber
Oof. Why did I suddenly tear up just hearing this? I guess because it rings true. Laura and I have been talking a lot recently about the craving we have for recognition of the work we do, with and for others. To put it bluntly, we miss someone peaking behind the veil just to whisper 'Thank you!', as people grow accustomed to have us make things happen.
If I am being even more brutally honest, I feel like somehow in most parts of my life I trade love and friendships by being that overwhelmed person. It means that I will organise, schedule, produce things to ‘earn’ my place. Over the years, I’ve become pretty good at it and I don’t end-up overwhelmed as often.
But the other side of that coin is that I struggle asking for recognition and gratefulness, or even for sharing this need without feeling ashamed2. If you are an organizer, you know it. If you talk to any organizer, you will find out that they have some sort of a variation of this feeling. But very quickly we forget, and we take them for granted.
The more effort they put in making things happen, the less the world takes care of doing the same. The more professional they try to be, the less the world treats them like humans that just. want. to. be. loved. Especially when things are running smoothly, we assume that the people involved in making it happen are feeling great, feeling confident and feeling loved.
Because of these assumptions, people forget that makers also can hurt. Even—and maybe especially—the people that are close and profit directly from their work. In my case, I’ve been described as ‘caring too much about facts’, experiencing ‘as much emotions as a machine’, and even a few days ago as ‘having a lofty empty space’ instead of my heart. I've received angry emails about the website crashing as if a squadron of lazy developer was behind the company. Comments on the refund conditions as if we were an evil company making evil profit—or any profit at all, really. I've received countless caring advices about work-life balance. Oh, wait, how do you spell caring again?3
But I did this myself. So I’m gonna try and be better at it. And ask for it. So here we go. If you’ve ever felt like you were grateful to something I made happen, if I made a difference in your life, if I created opportunities for you and you’re somehow where you are today partially thanks to me, feel free to say it. Now, later, in writing, in person, to a friend of yours, or even to yourself in the back of an Uber on a stormy dark night. Any of those is precious, and I’ll cherish them equally.
But most importantly, if you have anyone around you that made shit happen for you to be part of, thank them, love them, tell them, and don’t forget them. How to recognise them, if you have a doubt? Look at their track-record: they are at the heart of projects years after years, they make things happen, they initiate new ideas, they make, make, make. They probably can’t help themselves: they are makers.
A BIG OL’ SHOUT OUT
Because of the section just above, I feel like thanking the people that gave me a chance, made things happen for me, without whom I probably wouldn’t be where I am today. We all feel a lot of ownership about our lives, our ideas and especially our successes. But sometimes there is this person that gives us a platform, that extends a hand, that gives our name somewhere. And as much as we want to feel in control, to believe that our own brilliance would have made it possible without them, the reality is that they were there.
Some are obvious, some are not. Some I still hang out with, some not. But for all of them, I am grateful. There is dozens of them in reality, if not more, and this list is not a real list, more of a sample. So I’ve put them in alphabetic order anyways, because why not.
- Cédric & Dan are definitely the first I’m thinking of. Cédric made me discover improv. The two of them are my most supportive and fabulous friends in the last 17 years. They’ve consistently been comfortable being mixed up with me, even in the most awkward situations. I wouldn’t be near where I am today without them.
- Jeroen is the very first person that asked me to join a social event after I moved to the Netherlands. He didn’t really know me, but just take a chance, and fed me little avocado-toasts, espresso and board games. In the meantime he turned out to be an all-round amazing person, but that invitation left its mark.
- Julien has asked me to join Banc Public, a street improv show with music and juggling. I was very beginner in improv, but he trusted me, and I eventually joined la Troupe à tours fully. It offered me an amazing improv experience for the next 10 years, but also reminded me that I didn’t only suck at it when competitive improv was kicking me around.
- Laura has expended my world and network, and she’s today at the heart of my work—yes, and life. My latest shout-out was all about her, but she’s also the reason why my workshop on soundeffects exists: she gave me the idea in 2016 when we first met!
- Laurence is the first person that brought me to an international festival to take workshops, less than a year after I started improv. That was my first encounter with non-francophone improvisation, and it was an absolute revolution.
- Manuel has asked me to join him in Improfestival Karlsruhe’s organisation. It is my only organisational project where I don’t do the organising myself. It’s a privilege to work with him, and he is very inspirational in how he runs his company and theatre. I keep drawing from this experience.
- Nausicaä & Lafayette are our cats. Yeah, bite me for cheesiness, but I’m so grateful for them being the best cats around. They relentlessly make me feel like I’m enough to be loved, that just living is enough. They slow me down, and held a big part of me during the hard times of the pandemic. They don’t give a shit though, they didn’t even subscribe to this newsletter while I put a bird name in the title for them.
There are plenty more people. People that trusted me or hired me somewhere. People in life-changing projects. People I met briefly or were just around during one key moment. People that were there since the second I was born. People that forgot who I am. People I miss. People I forgot. All of you: thank you!
RANDOM THOUGHT
I really like food. You know that. This weekend I was reminded of how much I like food by celebrating Laura’s birthday in a fancy restaurant. There, I experienced new flavors, new smells, new textures, new combinations of them all.
What I find fascinating in these restaurant is the concept of being part of something bigger than one self. I only interacted with the waiter, and his job was ‘only’ to wait the table, and yet he did that with the utmost dedication, and I can now associate him with everything I’ve experienced.
Thom—one of our new Company Members at Flock—studied in hospitality, and that’s also one of his favorite topics to nerd about. I think you must be nuts to want to work in high-end restaurants, but there is something irresistible in the idea of being part of something as special as a full grown adult being exposed to a complete new sensation.
I sometimes feel the same about our job: like in a gastronomical kitchen, there is very little direct advantage in being an independent artist, even less in improv. But there is something magical and irresistible in the idea of being part of the journey of the audience, of being a cog in the bigger whole that allows them to feel something new.
This is maybe why I love working with people that can’t help themselves but make it happen. We don’t need to explain to each other why we’re doing this.
Thanks for reading this new Pigeon Post! This time ended up circling around the same topic as sometimes my mind runs around making connections. If you want to chat, just hit the reply button, or if you prefer to silent-read, just do what makes you happy!
Take care, be kind and eat good food!
Gael
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