Confronting my anti-business bias.

L - R: Merce Cunningham, my Mom Barbara Dilley, Albert Reid in a PR shot for the European tour of 1966. I was on that tour. I was 3 turning 4.

I was not raised in a “business-centric” family. My Dad had a long career working for nonprofits and my Mom is a dancer, choreographer, teacher. I had a privileged upbringing of private schools, fancy colleges and grad school, and then - the life of the struggling actor/teacher for twenty years. I adopted the identity of the “art warrior”, a kind of rebel super-hero who “fights The Man” and aligns himself with anti-capitalism and progressive political positions. And I retain some - but not all - of those points of view. Because somehow, as the result of my mid-life crisis, I became a businessman.

Sort of . . . I run a nonprofit called Bright Invention which has an entrepreneurial program called Creative Corporate Training. Bright Invention was created from disillusion and hope. I was profoundly disillusioned with the life of the stage actor and the nonprofit ecosystem that “supports” it. And I was filled with hope that if I could somehow direct the transformative power of live performance at specific problems, I could create a new way to support actors.

The nonprofit ecosystem of regional theatres is filled with noble and principled leaders who make a lot of noise about empowering creativity, supporting artists and being an antidote to the materialistic culture we live in. And it is filled with struggling artists of all kinds who routinely can’t pay their bills, sacrifice having families, develop mental illness from the stress and anxiety of the life they have chosen, and see no other options. My lightbulb moment came when I was “successful” within this ecosystem. I was acting in two or three union stage acting jobs per year, and teaching as an adjunct at a college or two (another career path rank with institutional hypocrisy), and trying to raise two kids and stay afloat . . . and failing. My White privilege gave me a safety net many of my creative brothers and sisters don’t have - I could beg my family for assistance, an act of abject humiliation for a man in his middle age.

Meet the Medicis - one of the greatest supporters of the nonprofit ecosystem.

Here is the lightbulb: it’s actually not that the nonprofit leaders are exploiters and oppressors, it’s that the economics of it don’t work, and never have. The world of performing arts nonprofits is an ecosystem based on begging. We know we can’t function as common businesses, because if we did, tickets to our shows would be $400 each and . . . well you can see how that ends. So we make up for the fact that we can’t actually meet our bottom line selling our services in the marketplace by asking for support from donors and foundations. And thank God for them. Bright Invention would not exist but for its donors, especially The Wyncote Foundation. And it’s been this way since Michelangelo bowed before the Medicis and Shakespeare made friends with the Queen.

In order to succeed in the word of fundraising and development, you need to prove to funders that you are fiscally responsible: keeping costs down, raising money from other sources, and working with a clear strategy supported by professionals. Performing arts nonprofits are especially expensive because they rely on human beings. And human beings - at a bare minimum -need to eat and pay their bills. If theatres performed with dancing robots, well, things might be less expensive. So nonprofits are constantly underpaying artists in order to create budgets that are workable to foundations, because if they asked for the money their artists actually need to survive, no one would fund them (especially the small and mid-size theatres which employ most of us.) And the dancing robots? Mark my words: they are coming.

So where did I find my hope? In a form of theatrical performance that needs little to no capital support: no sets, no theatres, no costumes, no scripts. It’s called long form improvisation, and it was invented by a mad genius named Del Close in the 70s. It’s the foundation everything I do now, creatively and professionally. As I began exploring and experimenting with our ensemble, I discovered something else about improvisation: it’s economically nimble, and professionally adaptable. I wanted to develop a program which effectively monetized an actor’s creativity, so I developed a technique I call “scenario-based training”. Our actors perform scenarios for our clients using structured improvisation: a kind of in-between form which has the structure and repeatability of a script, and the flexibility of improvisation. I found out later this work is related to the ground-breaking work of South American theatre artist Augusto Boal.

Del Close during one of his calmer moments.

We a did a couple of pilot workshops and we knew we were on to something. Now - how to sell it? Through fits, starts, consultations and professional development I became . . . an entrepreneur, a business man, and began to think of our work as a dynamic service to sell, as opposed to artistic work to find funding for. I was immediately energized by the proactive and action-based mindset of the entrepreneur: leads, targets, strategies, connections and follow ups. It felt refreshing next to the submissive work of asking for money. Business activates, asking waits.

During the pandemic I knew I needed to up my game if we were to survive. So I invested in online networking groups, hired a business strategy coach and learned how to turbo-charge my LinkedIn activity. It was in the networking groups that I first became aware of my anti-business bias, because I felt myself shedding it. The people I have met in these groups and through the connections they create have been business people like me, trying to grow, refine and nurture their Big Idea. Far from being the competitive, aggressive and obnoxious stereotype I had in my head about “business people”, I have been delighted by the open, curious and mutually supportive people I have met. It’s not a stretch to say that the relationships I have made in the business community over the last nine months have not only supported the growth of my business, they have also been meaningful source of real human connection.

Performing a scenario for Community Associations Institute. Pictured: Caitlin Chin and Josh Kirwin.

And here’s a wrinkle. Into my business meetings I bring with me all my years of creative training, an elaborate understanding of narrative and storytelling, and a hopeful mindset about human relationships profoundly shaped by years in the theatre. I bring with me an essentially artistic point of view. It’s a point of view that loves innovation, nurtures authenticity, dares to be bold - ironically, all high-value traits in the business world. I find the people I meet thrill to this energy and want more of it. Far from being alien to this world, I believe artists are in fact natural entrepreneurs.

There is a lot about capitalism to critique, especially as it is practiced in America. American capitalism makes a fetish out of individualism and winning. It promotes a binary win/lose mindset antithetical to cooperation and community. All too often, managers cast themselves as the winners, which means the workers have to be the losers. I pay my actors between $75 and $200 per hour for our CCT workshops - an hourly rate that more than doubles what they might make in other contracted work as actors. And still, I have a long way to go to achieve the Big Goal: salaried positions for ensemble members with benefits, working in multi-faceted full-time positions, performing, teaching, and growing the business in a variety of ways.

And let’s be honest, I am having my cake and eating it too by continuing to raise money as a nonprofit. But my goal isn’t to stop being a nonprofit, my goal is to demonstrate there’s another way to be a nonprofit, one that relies more on earned program income, and less on donated income. One that engages the dynamism of entrepreneurship, drives its resources to supporting people not products, and lives in the assumption of abundance. But in order to become that kind of nonprofit, we need to prove our value to businesses. We need to activate, not wait.

The Benathon!

Bright Invention Executive Director Benjamin Lloyd

runs an Olympic-distance triathlon to raise money for

Bright Invention!

Saturday, July 25, 9 am - 2 pm!

• 1500 meter swim

• 40 kilometer bike ride

• 10 kilometer run

Since last year, Ben has been training to compete in triathlons as a tribute to his deceased friend Jim MacLaren. He ran his first Sprint-distance tri last fall, and this year is moving up to Olympic Distance (see the distances above)! Since most organized triathlons have been cancelled or postponed by the coronavirus, Ben is running this tri solo, using the Willow Grove YMCA as his base.

Like most nonprofits, Bright Invention finds itself facing some challenges this year. The board, staff and ensemble are united in doing what we can to continue our mission: Bright Invention uses improvisation to empower people and organizations to unlock their potential. Your support of The Benathon will . . .

• Support the Bright Invention Ensemble by providing fees to them for leading free workshops online.

• Expand our work with people with disabilities through our Ability In Action program, by allowing us offer scholarships to a more diverse population.

• Invest in our Creative Corporate Training program as we acquire the technical support we need to offer our workshops online.

Check out our social media pages for real-time updates on how Ben is doing throughout the day! 

• Bright Invention Facebook

• Bright Invention Instagram

• Bright Invention Twitter

With thanks to Peter Andrew Danzig and Theatrical Trainer!

Talking Improvisation

Thoughts on creativity and service

Written to the Bright Invention Ensemble last week . . . .

Good morning Inventors! I have been thinking about our rehearsal Monday night, especially our discussion about "negative choices" and my reaction to the ones I witnessed during rehearsal. I'd like to share some more thoughts about that.

CARAVAGGIO’S NARCISSUS

The lightbulb moment I had that stopped me from abandoning my acting career 20 years ago was this: I came to understand my creative gifts as an opportunity to be of service to people. I had been thinking about the narcissism of the actor a lot. I believe we must pass through a period of intense narcissism in our development, when we are are obsessively fascinated by ourselves, our feelings, our choices, our appearance. I call this necessary creative narcissism. All realistic actor training is built upon it. What am I feeling? How can I use what I am feeling creatively? What do I want? Why do I want it? Exacerbated by the natural tendency of teenagers towards narcissism, the young actor is primed for this exploration, and this explains the ferocity with which many of us attached ourselves to acting at a young age.

My creative crisis 20 years ago had to do with my observation of some professionally talented but personally miserable adult actors through my work and social life in New York and Philly, and my own self-awareness that my acting career had hitherto been all about me, me, me. I connected the dots. The adult actor has to somehow transform that creative narcissism, or add to it, or adjust it somehow, or they become a bitter, neurotic and depressed artist - able to create extraordinary performances, but prone to self-destruction, addiction and broken relationships off-stage. I was plagued by the question: why am I doing this? The only answer I was coming up with is that it made me feel good, and that wasn't cutting it anymore.

The breakthrough for me was the concept of service. I have been given these creative gifts in order to be of service to other people - that's why I do this. What people? Those strangers that came to sit in the theatre (or online) and watch me. My students. You guys. The world. Adopting this point of view leads to some other lightbulbs. I need to believe that I have something worth serving, and I need to believe that in serving it, I am being of use to those who receive it.

Creative narcissism in improv is tempered by Yes, And. I must accept my partner's offer and build on it, so it can never really be about me. And yet, paradoxically (and don't get me started on creativity and paradox), it's all about me. Everything that comes up and out of me in an improv is my invention, not a playwright's, not a director's, not the result of a 3 week rehearsal. Because of this, I have a responsibility for the substance of my creative choices. I can blame a depressing play on the playwright. In a scripted performance, I can blame a negative choice on the director. But the great gift and great burden of improv is that I am actor, director and playwright simultaneously - co-creating with another actor/director/playwright.

In longform, we are eager to explore emotional and performative territory that isn't comic. And we must explore there - that's kind of the point. But we must also remember that we are servants to our audience.

Think about the world currently. What is our audience longing for? What do they need? How can we use our creative gifts in ways that will lead to revelation, healing, hope? Here's another lightbulb: Improv by its very nature is essentially optimistic. That optimism is embedded in Yes, And. It's the product of two or more people performing the astounding act of creating delightful and astonishing theatre on the spot through their total commitment to each other. Sometimes that means our scenes must include conflict between characters. But the optimism of improv means that conflict and negative energy must be transformed.

Think of this way. You and your partner realize your scene includes a betrayal of one character by another. That can't be an honest dramatic event unless someone is hurt, angry, even nasty in their reaction. But it can't stay like that. Something has to shift, change, evolve.

What is our audience longing for? What do they need? At its foundation, theatre (and I'm including improv under that umbrella) offers an audience a chance to see themselves through us - navigating an absurd situation, dealing with an aunt with a crazy voice, and yes, working through a betrayal. Perhaps the greatest gift we can offer is vulnerability. In being vulnerable with each other through our fictions and inventions, and co-creating workable, hopeful, sometime hilarious outcomes from that vulnerability, we are serving up empathy. And God knows we need as much of that as we can find . . . .

“SERVE YOUR AUDIENCE A DELICIOUS MEAL, AND THEN SPILL SOME OF IT . . . “ #IMPROVGOALS

Improvathon wrap! Or give us money so we can give it to someone else

OWEN COREY PLAYING MY BOYFRIEND WHILE MY FORMER BOYFRIEND ERIC WALKER WALKS AWAY, DEJECTED.

A performing arts group spends a couple of months preparing for a big fundraiser. It’s the biggest event they do all year. The Executive Director involves the board and the staff in various levels of preparation. There is a venue acquired specifically for the event, and a multi-week promotional campaign is launched six weeks out. The organization spends it’s own money on food & drink for the fundraiser, and on the the day of the event most members of the organization are on site to help set up and execute the fundraiser. The gimmick? They will perform nonstop until the make their goal. Obviously, this is a standard yearly gala the organization puts on to raise money for itself, right?

L - R: AIMEE GOLDSTEIN, OWEN COREY, SPECIAL GUEST RALPH ANDRACCHIO AND KIERSTEN ADAMS IN HOUR FIVE OF THE IMPROVATHON

Wrong. The organization in question - Bright Invention - isn’t asking for money for itself. It is asking asking for money for a different nonprofit, one selected by the ensemble of artists performing in it. We call this event the Improvathon, and we do one every year as part of Theatre Philadelphia’s Philly Theatre Week. Crazy? We think not . . .

But we don’t mind if you think it’s crazy. Because then, you might peer in a little further to ask, just what kind of nonprofit would work this hard on a fundraising event in which it loses money? The answer is, a nonprofit which doesn’t rely on donated income for the majority of its income. This is the new nonprofit paradigm Bright Invention is . . . well, inventing! It’s a paradigm that monetizes the powerful creativity of our ensemble to solve problems in the world, and frees us to donate our creativity to those in need.

Our business model depends on the success of our Creative Corporate Training (CCT) program, which employs an innovative, scenario-based approach to team-building, customer service and workplace culture enhancement. We use structured improvisations we design specifically for each client, which embody issues or themes the client wants their team to examine. This work lies squarely within Bright Invention’s mission: to use improvisation to empower people and organizations to unlock their potential.

SPECIAL GUEST JACK PRESBY WITH ENSEMBLE MEMBER SHEA SONSKY IN HOUR ONE

We have been offering CCT since 2016 and it has grown an average of 30% compared to the previous year. We have worked with large multinational companies like GlaxoSmithKline and Merck Pharmaceuticals, and small nonprofits like The West Philadelphia Skills Initiative - the recipient of the $1,000 raised in this year’s Improvathon. We scale up our fees for the larger companies serve, earning significant income for Bright Invention and our ensemble members participating in the workshops, while remaining competitive in the learning and development consulting marketplace.

Eventually, this income will subsidize a substantial part of the expenses of our Ability In Action program, which has been serving people with disabilities and other marginalized populations since 2014. Imagine being able to go to a worthy if impoverished nonprofit, serving (for example) homeless youth transitioning to independence, or adults with disabilities training to enter the workforce, and be able to say, “we’d like to bring you an eight week program in creative dramatics and structured improvisation and all we need from you is a space to offer it in and a group to receive it.” Imagine not having to wait for a grant to come through to bring the transformative power of performance creativity to teenagers recovering from trauma (as we did last summer). Imagine the sense of meaning, empowerment and joy experienced by the actors in our ensemble, who are gaining professional skills doing this important work while they earn $50 - $100 per hour.

And yes, we still raise money through individual donations, and we still rely on philanthropic support. Indeed, we wouldn’t exist if it weren't for the Wyncote Foundation, who has taken a keen interest in our development of this new paradigm since 2013. But our fundraising lacks the beggarly, anxiety-filled desperation felt within so many nonprofits. We still have to meet our goals, we still need to cultivate and engage our donor base, we still need to be strategic and organized in our grant applications. But our goals are more modest, and our attention is more on the ways these activities grow and strengthen our community as a whole. We ask our board members to cultivate connections and leads for CCT, as opposed to meeting fundraising goals by asking their friends for money (although we don’t mind if they do that too!)

AIMEE GOLDSTEIN AND KIERSTEN ADAMS WITH SPECIAL GUEST MARY CARPENTER.

The priority for us is earning money by demonstrating this value proposition: that applied improvisation can transform workplaces, teach emotional intelligence, strengthen sensitive communication, improve customer service, and navigate challenging interpersonal management relationships. All of our work is based on the following priority sequence:

1. Our work has to be safe.

2. Then, it has to be fun.

3. Then, it can be meaningful.

The greatest joy for me participating in this year’s Improvathon wasn’t meeting our goal (which we did with minutes to spare in the final hour!) - although that’s a close second. My greatest joy was the way our ensemble of extraordinary actor-improvisers threw themselves into this madcap experience, with grace, with joy, with enthusiasm from start to finish. Special shout outs to Owen Corey, who I believe is the only member who performed in all eight hours of the Improvathon; Kiersten Adams, who performed in seven of the eight hours, and then got up the next morning to teach our class for people with disabilities; Shea Sonsky who performed while sick; and Francine Brocious, my assistant who took endless short videos and pics of the event and posted them to social media.

L - R: KIERSTEN ADAMS, BENJAMIN LLOYD, OWEN COREY, AIMEE GOLDSTEIN, SHANNON HILL AND SUZANNE ANDERSON PERFORMING “TELEPHONE”, A GAME BETWEEN ACTS OF OUR LONG FORM CALLED A HAROLD.

Why were they so upbeat, getting up early on a Saturday to perform for free so a different organization could make some money? I think it’s because that, in the midst of the sometimes vacuous and chaotic life of the professional performer, they were grateful to participate in something meaningful with people they love. In the words of Victor Frankl, “being human always points, and is directed, to something or someone, other than oneself--be it a meaning to fulfill or another human being to encounter. The more one forgets himself--by giving himself to a cause to serve or another person to love--the more human he is and the more he actualizes himself. “

What a great quote for improvisors, who spend their creative energy actualizing themselves by focusing on the other person. What a great event. Please join us when we give it away again, at our March show!

HAPPY AND EXHAUSTED “INVENTORS” AT THE TRADITIONAL DIM SUM MEAL POST IMPROVATHON. L - R SHEA SONSKY, FRANCINE BROCIOUS, AIMEE GOLDSTEIN, OWEN COREY, BENJAMIN LLOYD.

IMPROVATHON! It's a wrap!

9 improvisers. 6 hours of #improv. 6 special guests. Many cookies/donuts/pringles. And . . . we shattered our goal! $1,025 raised for The William Way LGBT Community Center! Thank you to Arch Street Meetinghouse for being such generous hosts, lots of audience dropping in throughout the day, and our amazing Inventors! Improvathon 2019 has come to an end with great success!

Here’s a slide show! Click on the image to go to the next one!