I spent years assembling tricks into a sequence and calling it a show. Then I discovered that every great performance follows the same four-part architecture -- and everything changed.
Read MoreMy first opener was seven minutes of talking before the audience knew whether I was worth watching. I learned the hard way that the opener is a punch, not a handshake.
Read MoreI walked into a corporate gig to find my stage was a three-meter corner behind a dessert table. My only opener required space I did not have. That panic taught me the most valuable lesson in show preparation.
Read MoreAfter my opener established credibility, I used to go straight into my next effect. It took an embarrassingly long time to realize the audience did not need to see more of what I could do -- they needed to find out who I was.
Read MoreLance Burton closed a TV special not with a grand illusion but with a torn newspaper on a stool. That choice broke something open in my understanding of what performance actually is.
Read MoreMy first show with audience participation ran fifteen minutes over because I didn't account for the simple fact that real people move slowly. Here is what I learned about balancing connection with momentum.
Read MoreThe personality piece is where you connect with the audience. It is also where you quietly scout for volunteers, test the room's temperature, and plan the rest of your show. Preparation disguised as performance.
Read MoreMy first closer was the hardest trick in my set. My current closer is the most emotionally resonant piece I perform. Here is the story of how I learned that 'strongest' has nothing to do with difficulty.
Read MoreWhen I added a genuine moment of vulnerability to my closer -- a real thank-you, a real feeling -- the quality of the applause changed. Not louder. Different. The Vaudeville performers knew something we keep forgetting.
Read MoreOne night, my closer failed. The conditions were not perfect, the effect did not land, and the show ended with a whimper instead of a bang. That failure taught me more about show construction than any success ever could.
Read MoreWhen a client asks 'How long is your show?' the answer should never be a single number. I learned to build one body of material that expands and contracts like an accordion -- and it changed everything about how I get booked.
Read MoreI used to think having exactly enough material for my time slot was efficient. Then I walked into a room full of engineers and realized my comedy-heavy set was about to die on impact. That was the night I understood what Scott Alexander means when he says too much material is freedom.
Read MoreEverything I perform fits in a carry-on bag. No checked luggage, no setup crew, no technical rider that makes event planners wince. I used to think that was a limitation. It turns out it is one of my biggest competitive advantages.
Read MoreI went through my set list piece by piece and asked a brutal question about each one: what job does this do that nothing else in the set does? If I could not answer in one sentence, the piece was on probation. Here is what survived and why.
Read MoreSame week, two completely different events. A quiet board dinner and a raucous company party. If I had performed the same set at both, one of them would have been a disaster. Here is how I learned to read the room and reconfigure on the fly.
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