The Big Bang theory of local theater

I get to talk to people all the time who have terrific ideas for new improv shows. It's a really exciting part of my job to hear all the cool new ideas coming down the pipe. Every so often in those conversations I hear something that really troubles me and I really think we have a responsibility to stomp it out whenever it comes up: the idea that people should warn us, let us know, check with us or otherwise worry about the reaction of our theater company to the fact that they are producing an improv show somewhere else. I know most times people do it out of courtesy, but I've had people check with me "to make sure it's OK" that they are putting up a show similar to not OK that you think you need to check with us," because that would be first step toward entropy. If you're worrying about what we will say or asking us, you've already spent too much energy in the wrong place. I use the Big Bang to describe what I've seen over time in our little community and I think it's true any time you build something to support an art, industry or idea instead of one group of people. We saw something similar when the Improv A Go Go started almost 11 years ago. Groups had been performing when and where they could and we put up a show to give a home stage to improve. You could feel the gravitational pull of that home. It was wonderful to see all our favorite improvisers in one place so we could all connect, see the work we were all doing and start working together. That gravity eventually pulls in so many people and so much energy that a core forms and things get so excited that it has to explode outward, because no matter how much you want to provide a home stage for everyone, there is only so much space and time to go around – people will have a new idea that can't wait until there's an opening in this very dense core, or they’ll come in contact with a new audience in another location that has never been to our home stage, and they have to spin out, away from the core. That is not only inevitable and predictable, it is necessary and wonderful. And it is absolutely cyclical. A new core will form somewhere else, and that is the best possible outcome. Some people will be propelled out into other venues, some to other cities. The chain reactions keep happening – that’s what causes things to grow and evolve. New people and ideas will take their place. We will give them a home to learn and grow and gather energy and the process will continue. Because we want to provide a home for them, they will always have a place to come back to – which I guess would be like photons being able to come back to the sun when they wanted to. This is where the physics metaphor breaks down, so let's get back to theater. Yes, we built our theater specifically to support this art form. But expecting that our theater would be the only place for people to find this art form would not be supporting it; it would be crippling it. Not only that, it would be about as impossible as trying to bend the laws of physics. We would have to be stupid to try and evil to want to. Our door is always open to improvisers who want a home, but it’s just as open to improvisers who are excited to take their ideas and art and energy out into the world. You are not competing with us, you are helping your art form grow. We exist to help the artists but we all have to keep in mind that we don't own the art - and we don't want to. If you have a great, new idea that is propelling you forward, don't stop to ask permission. That is just a waste of energy.