The Best and the Borderless: Rapid Fire’s Kevin Gillese leaves Edmonton; joins Atlanta’s Dad’s Garage
Kevin Gillese is moving away from Edmonton’s Rapid Fire Theatre, the organization he describes as “the best thing that ever happened to me in my whole life,” to take over as Artistic Director of Dad’s Garage Theatre in Atlanta, Georgia. Yet despite the pressures of getting adjusted to a new city, a new apartment, and a new high pressure job all at once, Gillese is brimming with positivity. “It’s a cold snap here and it’s -5 degrees Celsius,” Gillese says proudly, “in Edmonton it’s -45 degrees Celsius. I feel like I won the lottery.”
In fact at first blush, Gillese’s move—not to mention the decision of Dad’s Garage to move him—seems like a gamble. Indeed, plucking an Artistic Director from a Canadian theatre like Rapid Fire and planting him at the helm of a larger company in the American South is, as Gillese himself points out, “crazy. Atlanta is closer to Cuba than Canada.” Geographically distant though they may be, however, Rapid Fire and Dad’s Garage have a history that reveals a method to the seeming madness, and explains much of the artistic symbiosis that has landed Gillese in his sub-tropical paradise.
THE KEVIN COMETH
Gillese’s resume speaks of a performance career that defines much of what has been happening in Canadian improvisation since he joined Rapid Fire Theatre over ten years ago. From years of successful European and Australian tours with Arlen Konopaki in their group Scratch to years of work as the head of the Alberta branch of the Canadian Improv Games, to performances at essentially every major improvisation festival in the country, Gillese represents in many ways what it is to be a professional Canadian improviser. Nonetheless, compared to the qualifications of his mostly-American competition for the job, it would seem fair to assume Gillese’s Canadian-heavy experience wouldn’t have much of a shot. Gillese would tend to agree: “I thought well, there’s no way I’m going to get it but if I’m a finalist maybe I can get a raise from Rapid Fire or something, you know?” As it would turn out, it was precisely his lifelong experience with Rapid Fire that would make Gillese such an ideal candidate for Dad’s, as the two companies have been growing closer together for years over their common commitment to their players, a near-identical interest in a play-heavy way of approaching Theatresports (TM), and a belief in artist before audience.
THE SISTERHOOD
Built on years of mutual visits, festival invites (the companies have a standing agreement that they will pay their own way to perform at each others’ festivals each year), and more than a few after parties, Dad’s and Rapid Fire have a connection that supersedes any notion of nationality. Even during Gillese’s first trip down to Atlanta in 2000 he sensed “that the overall sensibilities of the two companies are just really similar.” Both companies, he goes on to say, have their “independent energy and spirit very much intact even though the companies have grown, so we’re in this sweet middle range where we can basically do any project we want.”
Scratch: Kevin Gillese and Arlen Konopaki
Anyone you ask from either company is quick to describe the relationship between Dad’s and Rapid Fire as a “sisterhood,” almost as if there was some kind of familial memo sent out. Dad’s Garage Education Director Amber Nash is no exception, and suggests the sisterhood grew from a like-minded approach to the art form of improvisation itself: “They do a lot of narrative work and they just kind of jack around like we do,” Nash suggests. “There’s a very fun sense of play in what they do and I think when Dad’s saw that we were like, ‘Yes, that’s what we want to do and that’s what they do.’ I think throughout the years we’ve learned a lot from them.” Amy Shostak, Rapid Fire’s Associate Artistic Director under Gillese and newly appointed Artistic Director in Gillese’s stead, agrees: “I think there are a lot of connections between the way we play [Theatresports]. It’s very fast, very game-oriented and very playful.” Both companies work to push the creative boundaries of the traditional structure of Theatresports by inventing games, sharing the stage with their “opponents,” and generally subverting the implicit competitive nature of the show.
The playful attitude the companies share in their short-form, gamey Theatresports shows may stem from their respective commitment to experimenting with long form improvisation. Rapid Fire’s Saturday night Chimprov show, for example, showcases the work of smaller troupes within the cast. The twenty to thirty minute sets that make up the show exemplify the company’s interest in indulging the particular artistic bent of its players, as groups like Gillese’s own Scratch and the young duo DotDotDot adapt their own unique approaches to the stage, suggestions, and scene work. Miles south, Dad’s Garage has also spent time developing its long form shows, and showcases its developing work—much of it inspired by the shows and styles they first encountered in Edmonton—in its Thursday night Improv Revolution.
THE WILD WESTS
If the onstage similarities between Dad’s and Rapid Fire stem from their common onstage background, the offstage likenesses between the companies may come from their comparable geo-cultural realities. Distant though they are from each other, Atlanta and Edmonton are both situated in what might be called the conservative heartland of their respective countries. This fact poses similar challenges to arts organizations hoping to compete for attention, funding, and financial stability with such hometown juggernauts as the Oilers and Falcons. Nash notes this is perhaps one of the more defining features for Dad’s Garage as Atlanta has “this great artistic community but we’re not known for having an artistic community, so a lot of times we lose performers to bigger cities like New York and Chicago and LA. And I think Edmonton struggles with that too.” Being somewhat artistically isolated from larger cities with more established scenes has a distinct effect on the way the companies must function. “Anytime someone gets really good and has some success under their belt it almost seems like they have to leave and go to Toronto or Chicago or New York,” Nash explains. It’s a reality that ensures the two groups focus on keeping their artists happy, working, and local.
Dad's Garage Theatre (image courtesy dadsgarage.com)
This shared commitment to the artists within their respective companies—above and beyond any show, festival, or audience—may be the connection that most fundamentally draws Rapid Fire and Dad’s Garage together. Gillese is quick to point out that it is this commitment to the artists that defines Rapid Fire’s strength as an improv company. “It’s that family vibe. You look at bigger companies and they’re not setting up showcases for their artists in front of a bunch of casting directors to get them work. But Rapid Fire does. Rapid Fire exists to give opportunities to its performers.” Nash matches Gillese’s emphasis on the cast above all. “In my opinion it’s more about the experience the improvisers have as opposed to the experience that the audiences have.” Nash adds a very Canadian pseudo-apology: “I know that doesn’t sound great. Kinda selfish…”
Whatever guilt may exist it’s easy to see how—by ensuring their players are inspired and engaged—Dad’s and Rapid Fire are also looking out for their audiences, who in turn benefit from that playful, innovative spirit that is evident in both groups’ work. And who better to lead both companies than Gillese, whose words smack of a man who has grown up a well-supported artist at Rapid Fire. “Some projects are big hits and some are big misses but somehow it doesn’t seem to matter much six months later. It’s the different artists you collaborate with along the way really help form who you are and have formed who I am.”
ON THE ROAD
Even with a metric tonne (or an imperial ton) of things in common between the companies, the question remains why Dad’s Garage would hire a Canadian improviser who is younger than the average Dad’s cast member and comes from a company that is smaller (Dad’s runs five shows a week to Rapid Fire’s two, owns its own theatre, and has a full scripted season each year) than it’s American sister. Nash and Gillese together marshal a variety of reasons, from Gillese’s work in building Rapid Fire’s Improvaganza festival into the two-week sell-out supernova that it is, and his familiarity with the Dad’s Garage community. “Kevin is the closest thing to an internal candidate that is also an external candidate because he has been coming down to Atlanta for close to ten years,” says Nash. “At this point everybody in the company knows him and so it wasn’t a leap. He wasn’t just some guy from Canada, he was a guy that knew our company and we knew his.”
Gillese cites some of his discussions with the Dad’s Garage selection committee focusing on his experience in creating the highly successful Scratch tour and his international contacts. “Pushing our guys out to have more of an international and national presence with Dad’s is definitely a goal,” he says. “I don’t know exactly which one I’m going to tackle first but as soon as an opportunity comes up I’m going to jump on it and push us to as many international festivals as possible.” For Nash, the issue in the past has been logistics if not contacts, a “fresh perspective on the way you can make things happen.” With large productions and large casts the Dad’s Garage original work has not been particularly tour-friendly, especially as compared to the touring needs of Scratch (two extra pairs of sweatpants and a white board?). Shows like Dad’s Garage’s Super Mega Happy Fun Time Improv Show are exciting, one-of-a-kind barn burners, but involve (on a minimalist night) eight or more cast members doing everything from dressing like “five bucks” to deliberately exploding bottles of coke on stage.
Dad's Garage's barn-burner Japanese game show
Adding Gillese’s knowledge of this area bumps up the company’s travel readiness and allows it to stick with its interest in touring to the festivals and places its players want to go. This commitment to fun festivals is again in following with Dad’s player-first philosophy, says Nash. “The camaraderie is better in smaller festivals, so that’s why we gravitate towards them more. A lot of us at Dad’s have day jobs and so you can’t [get away] very often. When we go to festivals like Improvaganza its because of the camaraderie that doesn’t always exist in American festivals.”
And so we’ve perhaps located it at last, the thrill that draws this capital-S Southern city’s thriving improvisation theatre to the colder climes north of the border: the love of the game, and the people who play it. Cliché as that may sound, the focus on the experience of the improviser does stand out as an important characteristic of improv festivals in Canada, from Toronto’s Combustion Festival to the Vancouver International Improv Festival. As Nash points out, many American festivals are designed to make money, capitalize on the demand created by scores of groups, and sell out shows.
In Canada, where improvisation has yet to reach the mainstream popularity or even the cultural awareness that it enjoys in centres like Chicago or New York, organizers are less inclined to focus on the bottom line of a festival, since the idea of a fest generating significant profit falls more into the category of dream than reality. While the survival-first fiscal realities of Canadian improvisation festivals is a regrettable situation (albeit one that seems to be improving), an upside would be the focus on the artist in an art form that demands an immediate and personal connection at all times. Indeed, the joy afforded an improviser who feels respected, valued, and celebrated as an improviser in the context of a less cash-driven festival may well be what guarantees the health and growth of those festivals, as the quality of their shows is assured (or at least more-assured) by the well-being of the improvisers.
It is all of this (in short: the sisterhood) that makes Gillese an unexpectedly obvious choice for the job. Gillese himself realized it only towards the end of the application process while at Dad’s for a few shows and interviews. He recalls thinking “Oh man, this is such a fucking great company, I would actually really like to work with these guys.”
THE FUTURE
The Gillese connection promises to only strengthen the relationship between Rapid Fire and Dad’s even further. Rapid Fire, now under the leadership of former Associate Artistic Director Amy Shostak, plans to renew its focus on player development and the needs of its cast. With the slate full of projects and tours initiated by Gillese and his predecessor, Chris Craddock, Shostak is aware that Rapid Fire “needs to make sure we’re developing our younger players as well as expanding because otherwise we won’t have anyone to send to these opportunities.” As for Gillese, he plans to get accustomed to his new staff, new theatre, and new cast before making too many bold moves, with the possible exception of getting a show on tour. And while the door has been left open for him to return—Shostak confirms he can come back anytime to a “comparable position”—it’s a safe bet to say Gillese will only be back to enjoy the pleasures of the company he helped build, as he plans to be part of the cast sent to represent Dad’s at his cherished Improvaganza this coming summer.
Now, in Atlanta, the ice cream store down the street from Dad’s has created a new flavour (maple syrup and back bacon) in honour of Gillese’s arrival, an ideal example of how welcome Gillese already feels. “In a weird way getting set up in my new place here is kind of like I’m getting home, only everything’s more southern,” he says happily. “I feel like I’m stepping into a new family.” i.ca