BY LUCIA MAURO
They may not use their sonorous voices to lure unsuspecting sailors to
their deaths, but Sirens–an all-female improv troupe–invites
audiences to revel in a new style of spontaneous humor with their killer
blend of aggressive, character-based comedy that’s not afraid to
push boundaries.
Formed three years ago over copious mugs of java at the Pick- Me-Up Café in Wrigleyville, the group consists of eclectic improvisers from different walks of life (acting, teaching, law, customer service, etc.). They also boast extensive experience in improv, stand-up and theatre. Their training encompasses ImprovOlympic, Second City and the Annoyance, as well as independent gigs throughout their college years and across the city.
According to founding member Jacqueline Stone, Sirens were inspired by a need to stretch the form and challenge already strong improvisers to explore a limitless range of characters. Early on, Stone–an actress in off-Loop theatre and instructor at the Second City Training Center–got together with about five fellow improvisers. Together, they made a list of women they thought would make ideal Sirens.
"We were looking for women who were not afraid to play anything," says Stone. "They needed to be aggressive and willing to play hard and harder."
Stone basically telephoned these candidates from that list and invited them to join. Sirens, which originally consisted of nine improvisers, debuted at ImprovOlympic in March 1999 in a show directed by Stephnie Weir. Long-form appearances continued at the Playground, ComedySportz, ImprovOlympic, Mary-Arrchie’s Abbie Hoffman Died for Our Sins Festival, the Chicago Improv Festival, Funny Women Fest, Columbia College’s Women in the Arts Festival and numerous women’s entertainment venues in Illinois (including the Midwest Women’s Autumn Fest on a football field in DeKalb).
Lillian Frances–a veteran improviser who performed with JANE, the ImprovOlympic’s groundbreaking all-women team, as well as original shows at Second City e.t.c., and Boom Chicago in Amsterdam–has directed the Sirens since August 1999. Over time, some women left to pursue different comedy venues and open auditions were held to welcome new members. But, during an interview before a rehearsal at Gill Park, the current nine-member team credits Frances with providing them with focus and consistency.
"Lily brings longevity, talent and true direction to the group," says ensemble member Katie Watson. "And there’s a real balance. She lets us play, but we never have the sense of a drifting ship."
Frances’ serious precision, tempered by an openness and encouraging attitude, is evident at a rehearsal in which team members craft intelligent, rapid-fire scenarios based on words Frances tosses out. For example, "home improvement project" sparks a Martha Stewart-esque sequence, with one improviser giving helpful hints on how to turn a Pringles can into a vase ("You just take off the lid"). This segues into a TV drama-style climax as two police officers sputter into their short-wave radios about how to convince one of their wives to not jump off the roof.
"I think what really sets Sirens apart," explains Frances, "is their character-based scene work. There’s a great level of trust among them. So they don’t panic and go for the funny. They don’t try to manufacture the comedy. It evolves."
While Watson–who has a medical/law background–created a biology-centered piece called Gynecology, Sirens does not limit itself to the usual feminine topics, like menstruation and childbirth. They choose a vast array of subjects, from new airport security measures to union unrest, and insist on showing the humanity in a scene while respecting their audiences.
"We like the concept of a shared joke," says Watson. "You create a shared group of reference points, and the audience is in on everything."
Most recently, Sirens invented a well-received hybrid of improv and sketch comedy, called "Chicken Scratch" (also the name of their latest show running through April 20 at the Cornservatory). One woman reads an original monologue the other Sirens have not heard before. A series of improv-based scenes inspired by the monologue then emerge. Chicken Scratch grew out of a desire to provide the team with more writing opportunities. It was sparked by a previous hit show, Token Male, which ran at the Playground from Oct. 2000 to Feb. 2001, and invited a different male improviser to perform with them at each show.
Sirens did not outline a specific marketing plan. In fact, they chose to work on content before setting the promotional wheel in motion. Word of mouth, reviews and their Web site (www.geocities.com/sirensimprov) have helped get their name out. And they’re first venturing into the "merch" side of the business, with Sirens T-shirts and refrigerator magnets. But they did create an event, which supports a great cause and helped put them on the map.
In Feb. 2000, Sirens inaugurated "Laugh," a 24-hour improv and sketch comedy benefit, with proceeds going toward Gilda’s Club Chicago–a free cancer support community named in honor of late comedienne Gilda Radner. Co-hosted by ComedySportz, this event attracted large and diverse audiences. Participating comedy groups included Second City e.t.c., ImprovOlympic and GayCo. "Laugh" has become an annual event and has raised more than $10,000.
Improviser Lindsey Harrington teaches sixth grade at Blackhawk Middle School. She and her fellow Sirens have developed improv workshops geared toward teaching students team spirit, listening skills and confidence-building. As a team, the women challenge themselves to explore new topics and ways of approaching long-form improv. Stone encourages all improvisers to be intensely "aware of the details around you–to seeing things in your daily life."
When the Sirens were kicking around ideas for a moniker early on, founding member Molly Erdman recalls they wanted "a name that would illustrate we’re women without being degrading." So one suggestion of Tune in Tokyo (TIT) got nixed pretty fast.
"Sirens sounds saucy and exciting," enthuses Stone. "There’s the mythology associated with it. But the name Sirens also makes a loud, blaring statement. We’re aggressive players."
Erdman interjects, "We’re boundless."
These Sirens are fearless comedic temptresses. Like Odysseus and his crew, audiences may want to cover their ears. Bad advice. You don’t want to miss a single word of these improvisers’ quirky and astute repartee–even if it means dying of laughter.
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