Kate Banford and the Elysian are Works-in-Progress


⤏ IN CONVERSATION WITH HANNAH BENSON
⤏ PHOTOS BY
SAY SPEZZANO AT THE ELYSIAN THEATER



How Kate Banford — the Executive and Producing Artistic Director of The Elysian Theater — is fitting in a video call on Wednesday morning is beyond me. With clowning intensives, open mics and at least fourteen shows a week, the independent comedy theater is bustling, which means Banford is not sitting around all day. Yet, here she is, completely present and ready to passionately talk Philadelphia, frogs, and chaos. And yes, the fact that The Elysian Theater is a non-profit 501(c)3 does make it Junior High’s twin.


HANNAH BENSON: Tell me a bit about your background and how comedy played a part in it?

KATE BANFORD: The true origin story! I remember being a kid in middle school or high school, I was very shy and reserved, but I remember seeing one of my friends make a joke on the school bus, going to cross-country practice and it just didn’t land and they made another joke on the bus and it didn’t land and no one laughed and then she made a third joke and it was really funny and everyone started laughing. And it was the first time I realized, ‘Oh, being funny isn’t about being funny one-hundred percent of the time. It’s about taking that risk to suck and then the only thing anyone remembers is the funny thing and people react when there’s the funny thing, so you just keep going [with the joke].’

I went to [the] University of Delaware and I was a part of a student sketch TV program and I started doing improv comedy. I moved to Philly and started doing sketch and improv. Once I started doing more stand-up comedy that’s when I started to find my people in Philly doing comedy. Then that eventually turned into starting a festival. Then it became a theater in Philadelphia and now here [in Los Angeles]!

HB: I also got into comedy the same way: Freshman Year sketch team. So the theater that started in Philadelphia that’s the Good Good Comedy Theater?

KB: Yes, we physically opened in 2016 and before that we had run Good Good Comedy as a traveling theater company. We would do shows at a bunch of different venues around town, mostly DIY spaces or theaters. That spawned a comedy festival [in 2014] called, “Five-Dollar Comedy Week.” It was so much fun. It was a week-long festival of brand-new shows. We had fake, weird workshops, we had secret shows at the end of the night and everything was five dollars. It was very collaborative, people from different realms of comedy came together in this one week of chaos. We thought, ‘Let’s do this again, that was so much fun.’ I remember even after that first one I thought, ‘I could do this every week for the rest of my life.’

HB: How do you think the Good Good being in Philly differentiates between The Elysian being in LA?

KB: When I was running shows out there, it was a lot of me reaching out to people who I saw were great and I would bring them in to do more stuff. Whereas in LA, there’s just so many people looking for shows and looking for a space to do a show that there’s a lot coming towards me and it’s a little bit harder to decide.

HB: When opening a theater in Los Angeles, what hurdles did you run into?

KB: Well, we opened this place very quickly in - what continues to be - the midst of the pandemic. So there was definitely a mental hurdle of “can we do this again and now?”

Being new to LA was also a hurdle. There were some people who doubted me and attempted to go over my head on certain things. That was tough but ultimately, those few came around or faded into the background. There will always be people who just want things to be the way they want or the way they were before. That’s natural.

It’s a hurdle being new. Especially running a space that’s meant to be inclusive in a city with a seemingly limitless pool of talent. I tried hard to balance efforts on bringing in people I had history with and already trust, while leaving space to take chances and be surprised (or frustrated).

Another major hurdle was going from 0 to 100. During Covid, the norm was doing practically nothing and no one expected anything of anyone. Opening the space was a switch from that to suddenly expecting so much from myself and constantly feeling like I wasn’t able to execute the way I used to. My friend Bobby put it into clear terms with this: “I was used to running a marathon. Then took a couple years off and woke up going ‘I’m going to run a marathon today.’”

So that took some self-compassion, to remind myself that we’re all in this space of maybe pushing ourselves to injury. I believe that to be a universal one.

HB: Do you ever feel imposter syndrome, like someone else could be doing better than you?

KB: My opinion on imposter syndrome has actually changed recently after listening to Ruchika Tulshyan and Jodi-Ann Burey on Brene Brown’s podcast. I’m a sucker for Brene! Their research and discussion on this illuminated to me that this is less a syndrome that women suffer and more of a systemic race and gender issue pervasive in most office cultures and society as a whole.

With that said, I ran Good Good with a partner, so doing this as a solo Executive Director rather than with another full-time partner tested my stamina and mental toughness. There were days where I wanted a partner, and there still are.

I was truly amazed at how many people turned out to help get this place off the ground, which is a testament to how much this city loves, believes in, and needs spaces where performers can push themselves, experiment, and simply create something fun. There are a lot of spaces that help that thrive but we could still use a dozen more. LA just has SO many talented, hard working, committed, and kind people here. It’s mind boggling.


“being funny isn’t about being funny one-hundred percent of the time. It’s about taking that risk to suck.”


HB: I’m an East Hollywood resident, so this is a local space for me. What is the relationship of the theater to Frogtown?

KB: I’m newer to LA and I also live in Frogtown, which is really nice, that’s just pure luck. We have neighbors who have been here many, many years who host little gatherings to meet people who haven’t been around for as long. It’s been nice to live and work here as a way to introduce I love hearing people’s history with the space and the neighborhood, because the venue was sort-of defunct-ish for awhile. It would do occasional things, but not as much as we’re doing right now. So a lot of people have told me that over the years they wanted to see it [the theater] thriving or experimental or doing comedy, so a lot of people are really excited to see life being brought to this historic space in the neighborhood. 

There’s also crazy stories, too. Someone told me why it’s called Frogtown. It’s because of DDT [the insecticide]. Since birds were eating it, their eggs had shells that weren’t strong enough to survive, so animals of prey would die, and would be eaten since they didn’t have protection. There was a decrease in the population of birds in Frogtown, so nothing was eating the frogs. The town was then overrun by frogs. One of my neighbors was telling me that back in the day you would drive down Riverside [Drive] and it would just go: Pop! Pop! Pop! Because you would be driving over frogs, I know it’s disgusting. It’s horrifying.

HB: That’s the fun thing about moving to LA. You learn all the silly, little stories that aren’t talked about to maintain some kind of glamorous facade. When I was learning more about The Elysian, I found your Instagram and saw it was very active in spreading the word about what's going on with the theater. You showcased what it means to be a theater director and I think there was an Instagram Story of yours that asks, “Does anyone know how to a work an A/C unit?” Do people reach out to you? Is your A/C unit all good? 

KB: It’s fixed [laughs].

HB: Hell yeah. 

KB: Running a theater your brain attracts knowledge that you would never ever think you would need. The other day I was changing a fuse. So I had a fuse puller, this 1920’s-ass-looking fuse thing and I had to turn off these breakers that are levers. It’s the basement of the Titanic. I pull that out [1920’s-ass-looking fuse thing] and I replace it with something new and I can’t believe this is something I’m doing.

HB: I think it mirrors putting a show together. Just chaos, chaos, chaos then it goes well for an hour.

KB: Exactly. That is the perfect description of running a show. I think the beauty of the creative process and creation is putting yourself in circumstances that are maybe insane and seeing when all those things come together. You can’t fully control anything in theater, because you have the audience, you have yourself, you have a tech person, you have whatever’s going on in the world and day, so you never have the exact same experience. There’s ways to channel the chaos: those moments of delight and joy out of something totally unexpected. At Good Good we used to call it “The Giddiness Factor.” 


“There’s ways to channel the chaos: those moments of delight and joy out of something totally unexpected. At Good Good we used to call it ‘The Giddiness Factor.’” 


HB: I never felt as safe in a comedy theater as I do at the Elysian. Part of comedy is heckling. Navigating this world as a twenty-something woman, it’s intimidating. The first comedy show I went to alone was at the Elysian and I felt safe in the theater and no one was being weird or mean. It was so lovely.

KB: That’s really nice to hear. I’ve been in spaces like that, too. I remember going to an open mic once and hearing jokes that really upset me. 

It sucks to hear someone say something really messed up and hear an entire audience laugh at it, because it’s a messed up idea, but it’s encircled by a truly, genuinely charismatic person. But they're abusing those beautiful skills to say something degrading.

I want to be in a space where I feel excited to see the performers, where I feel excited to see the show, where the staff feels excited to be there. That the performers are good people. I don’t care if you’re the best comedian in the world, if you’re an asshole, well then you can go somewhere else.

HB: One of the main draws of the Elysian for me is the diversity of acts, specifically in terms of identity. The comedy world, just like so many professions, is dominated by white, straight guys. The Elysian’s stage is where you can see actual change happening. How is identity a part of choosing the acts?

KB: I personally like to see a variety of people from a variety of backgrounds either running their own shows or on lineups, simply because those people are genuinely interesting or simply because they have a different perspective and their funneling that through their comedy. And this has always stuck with me, the idea of comedy and identity. There’s a lot of pressure for people to put that at the forefront, saying, ‘This is my comedy. My comedy is my identity.’ In the sense of equality, if a straight, white guy doesn’t have to do that, no one else has to do that either. Everyone is allowed to be funny in whatever way they are.

HB: A lot of the performers take you somewhere else. I know when I’ve seen “Rachel Sennott & Friends” I feel like I’m in high school at a slumber party and we’re talking about crushes. Are there any moments from this past year that you can remember when the house has been brought down?

KB: It usually happens when there’s a bit of tension built up. Or you can tell they don’t know what’s gonna happen. I remember in “Laid” when Natalie Palamides was doing that show she tosses an egg, which is supposed to be her child, to an audience member. When they catch it she then increases the distance. Tosses it again. Catches. Increases the distances. It’s terrifying, but it’s also so silly and stupid. Eventually the egg breaks and it’s a massive moment.

HB: I wish I got to see that! I love a good prop. I remember at one of Rachel’s [Sennott] shows, Meg Stalter was the final stand-up. The tension she brought at the beginning of her set by just coming on and off stage. Then throughout the set she’d leave to the side of the stage saying she has to go make out with her boyfriend. Just her appearing and disappearing made everyone shake with laughter. 

KB: What is amazing about Meg — and I think there’s a lot of comedians who have this same energy — is that she brings a genuine joy to people. Meg has a plan, but she’s open to changing, she’s not stuck on wording. And she just has so much fun with everything she’s doing. People like Meg take something stupid and take it further. Or Patti [Harrison] takes something stupid and takes it further. Or Mitra [Jouhari] in her solo show she takes something very serious and makes it stupid, fantastical, and absurd — and then makes it real again.


“I don’t care if you’re the best comedian in the world, if you’re an asshole, well then you can go somewhere else.”


HB: I love when I come out of the theater and think, “Ah, I feel better about that subject.”

KB: And that’s what’s amazing. Sometimes I’m so tired, I don’t want to go to a show, I feel like I’m in a bad mood. Then I go to a show and I’m buzzing the next day. I get home to my boyfriend and I ask can I tell you about the show tonight? Even if it’s a work-in-progress and we know it's flawed. But we know it’s going to become something more.

HB: I read about 50 percent of the shows are ‘works-in-progress.”

KB: Yes, it’s always changing a little bit, but that’s the percent we try to stick to. We’re under a year open, so we’re still figuring it out. Here’s what I can say, the theater itself: a work-in-progress. Always will be. 

HB: Writing and performing are also always works-in-progress, how have the performers at the Elysian influenced your own comedy? 

KB: The more you see comedy, the more you realize, ‘Oh you can do literally anything as long as you commit to it fully and don’t judge yourself. I’ve learned to let myself really be vulnerable onstage and open to anything happening. I think that has really influenced me. 

Someone who has influenced me a lot, simply because she is one of my closest friends and we’ve become really close during the pandemic, is Jessy Morner-Ritt. She has a really amazing show called, “Joy’s Bed & Breakfast” at the theater and I’ve worked with her on it. It’s been really fun to work with her, because she lets her brain go to places where I’ll think, ‘Where did that come from?’ Or she’ll pull things from her personal life and filter it through some weird bullshit. And I think that’s so amazing, that whatever’s coming through you right now is what you’re putting out there. Not judging it at all, just trusting that however she presents it will come through is really inspiring. I’ve seen her grow so much over this time period and she’s really putting the work in and letting herself mess around and letting her “Inner Critic” be much smaller than my own. I’m inspired by that. 

HB: Okay, interview over. Mic drop. I was actually going to ask, what are some goals you have for yourself or the Elysian?

KB: The hope for the theater is to continue be a space for incubating talent we believe in. We want people to come into the space and be given the support and time to build out their voice or their performances in front of a good audience. We are aiming to support that with our VIP: Very In Progress programming — which is really an exciting new initiative!

We want to continue to be part of this movement in comedy that is happening, and hard to define — so I’ll rough my way through it. A big aim is to push the public perception of comedy for people who may not be as in-the-weeds as someone embedded in the comedy scene. So the more we push for shows that are weird, authentic, silly, genre-bending, from deeply funny and kind people, the more we will see that reflected in our culture at large.


HANNAH BENSON (SHE/HER) IS A LOS ANGELES-BASED SATIRICAL AND CULTURE WRITER. SHE LOVES A FASHION BOW AND SHARING SECRETS. YOU CAN FIND HER WORDS AND THOUGHTS FEATURED IN REDUCTRESS AND HER SUBSTACK, BABY DANCER. SHE’S WILLING TO DIE ON THE HILL THAT “YOUR SONG” BY ELTON JOHN IS HER SONG.


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