8:00 P.M.

You are guided by a red block-print of oranges taped haphazardly to an elevator door and alerting you of the fun to come. Improv Upstairs it calls; it begs for your attention. You arrive on the fourth floor of Old Main, lights are down, you are lulled into a false sense of calm by a murmuring crowd festooned in pajamas and wrapped in blankets. The Fresh Concepts fly in from the wings, claiming the strip of carpet that is their stage, their home, their purpose for the next twelve hours. A motley crew dressed in the finest business attire look at you with a glimmer in each of their eyes. That is the look of a daredevil, a death-defying trapeze artist who throws themselves into the no-mans-land of the stage. They relish the razor’s edge that they dance upon. Adelaide Miron ’28, knows this feeling well. She’s done this once before, and returns to the stage to listen to the audience’s plaintive calls, which will then be crafted into original scenes. But it’s not all jokes and laughs.

“The twelve hour show is always a cool idea,” Miron said. “It’s a thing we can say and think about and go, ‘wow, that’s so cool and awesome.’ And then there is the follow through.”

9:00 P.M.

They begin with a colorful tale of raunchy sailors and a mermaid, and the audience is overjoyed. You begin to believe the claim that this spirit will last all night. An hour passes, a colorful #1 is pulled from the wall, celebrating the march of time. The Fresh Concept’s elation continues. The audience is loving it, but Miron knows what is to come. Sure, hour one may be a piece of cake, but soon the time begins to press against your will.

“You suddenly find yourself at 1 a.m. with your face in a bowl of water doing a scene about oxygen deprivation and you still have seven hours to go. That’s a full school day. A full school day’s worth of performance left.”

12:00 A.M.

Around hour four, Cameron Taylor ’27 evokes the image of a bedraggled worker, laboring for hours upon hours in the spoon mine. On his mind is only his loving family — a beautiful wife, a talking dog and indeterminate numbers of children. Unfortunately, Miron, a fellow spoon miner, is fueled by an equally strong love of Taylor’s family, and fisticuffs are traded with an escalating list of promiscuous coworkers and nasal bosses. This is Taylor’s third undertaking.

“I love the 12-hour show because of how it creates a sense of belonging with the audience that we don’t always have at other shows.” Taylor said. “The longer you stay, the more you become part of the show and will hear repeat jokes or references to jokes and scenes from earlier in the night. Improv is already a pretty low-stakes environment, but the 12-hour is especially fun because we’re allowed to be delirious and make no sense at all. It’s one of my favorite ways to ruin my weekend.”

The audience agrees strongly with Taylor, and has, by the toll of midnight, become nearly a limb of the performers. Ben Bellomy ’29 had never before witnessed this Macalester tradition, but thrust himself among the red-eyed company and begged them to do their worst. He speaks of the experience in extremely positive terms.

“The improv was great. I was there for the first four hours, and the sixth hour. During that time, the innovative and zany Fresh Concepts never slowed down. During the sixth hour, they did a bit where they brought me onto stage, and the whole team grilled me, asking questions about my average day. After collecting enough information, they sent me back to the audience and, much to my surprise, their glorious leader Adelaide [Miron] announced that they would perform ‘My Worst Nightmare.’ They turned everything I said into horrors beyond my imagination, and both I and the audience were thoroughly amused. It was an honor to be featured by them.”

1:00 A.M.

Five hours in I begin to stretch out on a couch, letting thoughts of sleep tempt me. Luke Kramer and Seth Greenburg ’28 present a perfectly synchronized image of a two headed man. For five minutes, I believe that they were born twins. The humor becomes increasingly feverish as described by Miron. “You reach a point where the relationship between you and the hour hand of the clock is codependent. Like two straight people in a relationship where they are all over each other and it’s a lot for everyone. Desperation to perform for the clock. Desperation for the clock to move for you. And then, BAM, an hour has passed and your thirst for less time has been quenched.” While the performers have their eyes on the clock, the audience has their eyes on them. Sev Kaiser ’27 provided only the most glowing report.

“Dude that was soooo effing funny! I loved the part when the first lady was a DJ and everyone called her Mrs. President, it was really funny and I laughed a lot. My favorite was definitely Cam [Taylor] with the tiny little gun. He totally got my goat with that one.”

Though I can not personally speak to that sketch, I do not doubt the quality that Kaiser describes. Vi Danahy ’27, having settled down early in the night and staying for nearly five hours, was happy to deliver another satisfied review.

“Witty and wonderful entertainment as always.”

7:00 A.M., the final push

I am nowhere near as brave or resolute as any member of Fresh Concepts. I find myself slipping around three in the morning and sneak out to catch a few winks before the final push to the finish line. Four hours (minutes?) late and feeling particularly bright eyed, I sit bolt upright and return to the fourth floor to witness the waning moments. In front of me are four Fresh Concepts, their faces twisted in manic grins, willing themselves forward for an audience in various stages of sleep. Sitting in pantomime of a support group, our performers sought a few final jokes, but become increasingly perplexed as they introduced the characters Balthazar, Bob (he/they), Gizzard (zie/zem), Schmibly, Gremily, Schemlin, and Furgermeister (she/ her). As they descend further into a state of pure confusion, an alarm rings through the space. The hour is eight in the morning. Miron describes the feeling well.

“The last hour is the best one. It’s like the light at the end of the tunnel. The white flag at the end of a battle. I’ve never been in a battle, but I can imagine it’s the actual best when your enemy surrenders. The improv that is done in the last hour is an experience I will only have a few times in my life. Hysteria. Exhaustion. But also a great appreciation for my fellow teammates. It was us that got us through these twelve hours, not the co-dependent relationship with the clock I created in my mind. It was my brilliant, funny friends that were able to tap into our boundless source of creativity when the conditions are right. And then we get to leave. And it’s a bit melancholic at the end. It’s over. We have been released from our improvisational purgatory, our ivory tour. Until next year when we will lock ourselves in Old Main four and put another 12 hours into the world.”

Fresh Concepts will be performing again on Dec. 6th in the John B. Davis hall starting at 8:00 p.m. The show will only last for an hour, but you are welcome to stay for longer.

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