Where To Share Your Shame In Seattle

0 CommentsTuesday • July 12, 2011 • by Imei

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After a particularly hard day at my day job (I’m a private practice therapist), I often looked forward to watching comedy at night. I’ve been to Theater Sports and a few comedy clubs in Seattle, but more often than not, I’d be up watching some late-night comedy. The ability to laugh at your life — or somebody else’s life, for that matter! — seems to always to the edge of seriousness off of the day. I feel no guilt for getting a good night’s sleep. Tonight, I am going to sleep well because I got my belly laughs at a comedy show in its sixth year: The Salon of Shame, located in the Theater Off Jackson in the International District. This is THE place to share your shame proudly and move forward a little lighter for it.

Dear Diary

Readers send in their request to share up to five minutes of material from their early childhood to college years. Subjects cover the range of music, unsent letters, dating and breakups, bad poetry, to obsessive details involving period slang and relational sadism. The curators of the show, aka the Ariels (two women both named Ariel but unrelated) and Ben (AV guy) select both new readers as well as past readers that may or may not have intersection with other readers. Participant readers receive free entry, a plus 1 pass, and oodles of “street cred” [I highly doubt that, but you'll have an appreciative audience]. The show runs approximately 90 minutes, with an intermission/pee break, and the entire show has several American Sign Language translators, who add an additional level of expression and comedy to the readings. The MC does a great job of keeping the flow going between readings and providing some laughter-enhancing comments about the previous reading.

Why On Earth Would You Want To Do This? (And FFS: Is It Art?)

Everyone remembers the first time they performed anything publicly, read a poem aloud, gave a speech, or danced a jig. Part of performance as a young person involves the attention to detail s/he gave the subject matter, as if it were life and death and everything and the Universe [a.k.a 42]. By reading something you once thought was so “aweseome” many years ago, you begin to see how serious and ridiculous you were. Remember that first kiss you gave? Did you write down how many minutes it lasted? Did you notice what song was playing on the radio? Did you write bad poetry about the guy you found so hot? What zingers did you say about the guy who decided to go steady with your best friend instead of you?

The things you wrote about as a child or young adult are the same things we care about today, only perhaps on a more generalized scale. We still care about music, kissing, relationships, stupid things people say and do, what people think of us, and what we think of people. Your old diary may hold some fun material you’ve always wanted to blog about, create art, or sing about — only, I highly recommend you change any names of identifiable people in your public work, and think about editing that part about the curvature of your penis [unless you could somehow get people to think that wasn't YOUR penis. Hmmm.]

Delivery is everything, and readers can select excerpts directly from their past writings, or they can transfer their work to a tablet or print out for easier reading. I particularly enjoyed the readings where the writer presents his or her work in her former voice, such as herself when she was 13. Readings become mini theatrical presentations, and everyone in the audience is invited to snicker, chortle, and snort at the sarcasm and self-centered views of teenagers in the throes of unrequited love.

Yes, even bad poetry is art. It’s just “bad” art, and bad art has a certain comedy to it that I think you will not only enjoy, but you might find strangely cathartic. The next Salon of Shame is September 13, 2011; SOS runs every two months on the second Tuesday of the month, and tickets often sell out in five minutes [but they told us to tell you that there is a wait list available the day of the show, so if you don’t get ticket right away, you can see if there are seats remaining). If you’re in Seattle, attend a show, and then ask yourself what excerpts from your diary would you feel embarrassed to share in public. My guess is that you’ll find that material the fodder of some great art!

Editor’s Note: I might not have heard about the Salon of Shame for some time if it hadn’t been for the Furrball in my life. For various reasons, I’m keeping his name muted for now, but here’s my thanks for the tip, ticket, and accompaniment, as well as all that thigh slapping and foot stomping that let me know you loved it too.

Posted in: Art, blogging, blogs, Seattle, sex

Tagged with: comedy, comedy as art, diary, Salon of Shame