Stir Q&A: Bird's Kylie Vincent talks pain, laughter, and the coolest dog she knows
Comedian’s standup-theatre-memoir mashup digs fearlessly into the trauma she suffered in her teens
With Bird, Kylie Vincent says she aims at “genuine storytelling, where it doesn't require or expect laughter”.
The Cutch presents Bird as part of the Femme Festival, April 18 to 22 at the Vancity Culture Lab
DESCRIBED AS EVERYTHING from a “Gen-Z trainwreck” to a “punk-rock badass”, 23-year-old Kylie Vincent has been upending expectations and defying genres everywhere she tours her solo standup-theatre mashup Bird.
Trailing positive reviews from the Edinburgh Fringe’s Gilded Balloon and an eight-month road trip around the U.S. in her built-out SUV, the New York writer-performer-comedian is set to bring the show to the Cultch’s intimate Vancity Culture Lab next week. In it, she adeptly uses self-deprecating humour and fearless honesty to reflect on sexual abuse she faced during a traumatic adolescence, as well as the struggles of working as a young, female-identifying standup comedian—not to mention the state of America. Amid the punchlines there’s palpable pain.
Stir asked Vincent about the origins of the show, just how to categorize it, and the travel companion who happens to be the coolest dog she knows.
What do you call this—standup, theatre, monologue, memoir, or something new that sits between all that?
All of the above! I love the idea of calling it a ‘standup comedy show’ because I know dudes that love, like, a Bill Burr type will come and be like ‘wtf is this?’. But then we're also living in a time where something like Bo Burnham's Inside is in the comedy genre. It’s extremely dark and confronts uncomfortable truths, but it's also hilarious, creative, and genuine when it needs to be. It’s a memoir because it’s my life story (haha, wouldn't that be crazy if this wasn't actually about my life?). It's theatre because it’s a production with elements, acting, and playwriting. It’s a monologue because I’m talking to myself onstage.
The best part about a solo show is there are no rules to follow—it’s about your story and how you want to share it. I’m not one thing: I have a silly sense of humour, I have a dark sense of humour, I’m thoughtful, I’m serious, I’m strong, and I’m a mess. So, the show isn’t one thing either.
You call yourself Bird and refer to a lot of the people in your show as animals; when did that start?
It comes from my sister, mom, and I calling my dad's angry face ‘the gorilla face’. It was how we coped with his anger: we made fun of him. Which in retrospect is really dark, but having a normal childhood is so boring! When the pandemic hit, I was nannying for my day job and the kids were now in zoom school. I had to sit and watch them to make sure they were paying attention—lol—so of course I didn't, I brought a journal with me to write while they learned about multiplication, or whatever numbers they were playing with (I wasn't paying attention). I started writing about my family, my childhood, I only referred to my family members as their given animals. I suppose it was a way to cope with the more traumatic memories. I came to be ‘bird’—it made me feel empowered because I knew if I flew away from my flock, I could find my way home, wherever that may be.
How have you found laughter important for processing real pain?
Laughter is important for processing pain because no matter what, I'm going to live with that pain for the rest of my life. I can either sink in it, or I can channel it through the way I know best—humour. Unfortunately, a lot of people have been through what I have been through, but fortunately, I can connect with them through laughter.
What about the moments where the audience is too uncomfortable, and the subject is too dark, to laugh—what have you noticed in that awkwardness?
I try to balance the moments that may be too dark with genuine storytelling, where it doesn't require or expect laughter. Obviously, some of my jokes won't make everyone laugh, but I have found solace in those awkward moments. It reminds you that every individual in the audience has their own story, their own personality, and it grounds you as a performer who talks about intimate subjects, it reassures you that they're taking it in.
It's also interesting performing it in different regions; people relate so differently. Some regions have never heard a woman speak for this long, lol. It's cool being a 23-year-old woman with a one-hour show of something so many women experience; I hope that other young women watch and it inspires them to create boldly.
Do you still tour with your disabled dog?
My disabled dog tours with me all the time! She is the smartest, sassiest, most loving gal I've known. She's trained to alert for PTSD, she's the coolest dog I know. I have to squeeze her like a Capri Sun for her to go to the bathroom and that's just normal life to me now.
Kylie Vincent is part of The Cultch’s Femme Festival. Photo by John Cafaro
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