HEIGHTENING RELATIONSHIPS by Matt Nelson

My experiences with ImprovBoston probably sound pretty familiar to many – Memories of playing with Paul, Don, Deana, Bobby and Dave in Mainstage; playing with countless others on the Mainstage, on the Studio Stage and at the Brattle… Subsisting off pre-show dinners and post-show drinks at The Field; late night tacos followed by more drinks and laughter until the wee hours of the morning at Club Kenna; hauling my clothes down to the coin-op laundry on Broadway in Somerville on Sundays after having stuffed our faces at Kelly’s Diner…

Since it’s so familiar, you might find yourself asking why it bears mentioning. Well, for those of you that don’t know me, you might be surprised to learn I’ve never lived in Cambridge, Somerville or Boston; not even New England. I live in Philadelphia.

I run the Philadelphia Improv Festival, and although I’ve been inviting members of the IB community down to play in my festival for the past nine years (shout out to the Perry brothers!), as a producer I don’t get nearly as much time as I’d like to socialize and really get to know performers. In what now seems like serendipity, my introduction to ImprovBoston really came about six years ago via Zach Ward. In 2008 while attending the Dirty South Improv Festival (now NCCAF), I was randomly assigned Will Luera as a workshop instructor. Always the heartfelt ambassador, Will told us about the culture of IB, and it sounded both impressive and inviting. The following year, I got to spend a great deal of time with the cast of Marjean, and that impression was cemented.

The next couple years could play out like a montage of great moments. More IB groups coming to Philadelphia for the festival; tapping incredible IB instructors to teach workshops; the start of the Boston Improv Festival (now BCAF); being invited to come play with the Mainstage and All-Star shows; bringing my roadshow Adrift up for non-festival shows; inviting IB groups down for more non-festival shows. But the thing I learned so quickly was that those moments never ended with the blackout. I remember countless people crashing on countless couches; renting karaoke rooms in Philadelphia’s Chinatown; throwing back pints in Davis Square. I wasn’t just investing in the characters on stage – I was investing in the people in the community.

Since then I’ve collaborated with Elyse on concept shows for my theater. Just the other night I spent nearly an hour on the phone with Michelle chatting blood effects for the stage. IB has been a huge influence on me creatively. But even more so, it’s how they’ve all become a part of daily life on a real, personal level. I’ve been invited to join email listservs and Facebook community groups. For the last few years, every day has been filled with both the minutiae and milestones of life. Restaurant tips, bad work days and T closures interlaced with new loves, old fights and the loss of dear friends. As I’ve watched the theater turn 30, I’ve also watched kids grow up and new friendships form. The depth of how largely IB has integrated into my life has never been more apparent than this past April. That horrible afternoon of the Marathon bombings, I wasn’t fixed to the television – what I needed to know, that everyone was safe, was coming in through email, social media and text messages. Hour after hour, more faces and names would appear like a light bulb, and each had to be checked in on. Those 300 miles might as well have been 3 blocks for all the difference it made. That’s the day I knew that these people meant so much more to me than a night of laughter. Over the better part of a decade, they’d redefined for me what community can mean.

There’s a reason that South Station, Back Bay and Logan are the only three points familiar to me south of the Charles. The heart of Boston to me isn’t Beacon Street, Boston Common or Fenway. It’s the Central Square stop on the T­, where just off Mass Ave, through an unassuming storefront, lies a second home to some of the best people in the world – and where for a few fortunate days throughout the year, I also get to hang my hat as I’m welcomed like family.