Welcome to this week’s Street Sweeper! I’m your host, Fiona Herzog.
This week, Street takes you across Penn’s best campus events, from comedy shows to a night filled with drinks at Smokes'. If you need another reason to support your friend in The Mask and Wig Club, Bloomers, or any other performing arts group, look no further than the great experiences we had.
In this edition, Street attended Bloomers’ latest sketch comedy show Unholy Matrimony, witnessed the chaotic hilarity of comedy troupe Without a Net, navigated the social scene at Junior Smokes' Night, and learned about the future of journalism at Kelly Writers House. Whether you are in the mood for laughter, live music, or thought–provoking discussion amid the current political state, there’s always something happening on campus to fill that desire.
While we covered Mask and Wig in a previous edition, I would like to add that I saw Once Upon a Crime in Hollywood this Friday. Every time I see a performing arts group show, I am always blown away at how committed everyone is. If you have the chance—support your friends and their hard work!
–Fiona Herzog, Assignments Editor
The Buzz on Locust
Bloomers: Unholy Matrimony @ Iron Gate Theatre
This weekend, I indulged in more Penn theater, but this time, at Iron Gate Theatre to see the Bloomers' spring show, Unholy Matrimony. After two weeks of spending my Friday nights watching serious shows like Tick, Tick… Boom! and The Grown Ups, for the third week in a row, Bloomers made me cry. This time with laughter.
The show was fast–paced with a mix of absurdist humor and Penn–related sketches, all tied together with a bow of love and togetherness. In between costume changes, audiences’ ears were graced by the stylings of Bloomers band, and their singer Veronica Baladi (C’ 27). The writing was unhinged and completely unpredictable, but for me, it was each comic’s commitment to the bit, and their ability to make it through without breaking or laughing.
The biggest laugh of the night came from the sketch A Look Inside the Rehearsal Room. As a theater kid, their hilarious take on intimacy coordinators was spot on. Played by senior Drew Naiburg–Smith (C’ 25), their hippie, over–the–top intimacy coordinator guided the Bloomers cast through their first–ever sex scene. It was physical, it was outrageous, and it was the perfectly exaggerated version of an average intimacy coordinator being in the rehearsal room for the first time.
This was my first time seeing a Bloomers show, and they did not disappoint. Their sharp writing and comedic timing made for a night filled with laughter, and if this was any indication of their talent for comedy, I will definitely be back for more. I urge you all to join me in the fall for their next show!
–Julia Girenti, Staff Writer
Junior Smokes' Night @ Smokey Joe's
I rush to throw on a leather jacket and fix my hair—it’s 10:55 p.m., and I have five minutes to run to Smokes' before the tap runs dry. I make it just in time to grab two rum and cokes. I find inside the bar a third of the entire Junior class, some mostly sober, some mostly not, and a rather incongruous folk band. Beyond the frat brothers dapping each other up and friends exchanging jabs in the side booths, a small crowd gathers before the stage and tries to make the most of the half–century gap in musical taste. “How many roads must a man walk down…" croons the silver–haired lead singer, “Before you call him a man?” The crowd, clearly transported from a Bushwick or Gangnam–gu nightclub, does not answer.
Then, with a sly smile and perhaps an acknowledgement that the times are a–changin’, the old man strums the opening chords to "Love Story," and the bar predictably erupts. When the furor dies down, I take my first good look around the room. Not much mixing happens, as everyone had long ago sorted into their respective friend groups, but somehow the party seems better for it. Less awkward introductions and staring down at phones for the lack of anything to say, more laughter and gossip. The questionable maintenance at Smokes’ adds to the ambiance, casting a warm throwback glow over a crowd placated by two free drinks each. In an environment as competitive and cliquey as ours, it was a nice change of pace to see some camaraderie—a chaotic, drunken, sort of camaraderie perhaps, but camaraderie nonetheless.
I pity the poor souls who have to clean the place afterward; many, many drinks and other liquids were spilled. I contributed one spilled drink to the tally and was on the receiving end of two, filing out with the last of the crowd close to midnight, soaked in vodka crans and all the happier for it.
–Jason Zhao, Staff Writer
Without a Net @ Class of '49 Auditorium in Houston Hall
The hottest club in Philadelphia is the Class of ’49 Auditorium in Houston Hall where Without a Net, Penn’s improv comedy troupe, is performing. It’s a small space, but it’s packed with adoring fans—members of Mask and Wig who brought nonsensical signs to support their fellow comedian in a different one of her endeavors, a section of (slightly buzzed) theater kids who’ve shown up for Daniella Clayborn (C’ 25), and even former The Daily Pennsylvanian Executive Editor Anna Vazhaeparambil (C’ 25). Everyone’s chattering loudly before the show, and everyone’s excited.
About 15 minutes after the advertised start time (has any Penn performing arts show ever started in a timely fashion?), the lights dim, and the members of Without a Net line up on stage in matching blue jeans and aggressively orange Gooney Tunes–themed shirts. (The Net semesterly theme, like the a cappella themes and Glee themes, seems to have little to do with the actual content of the show, but I don’t really care because experiencing the discourse over “Jesus died for our Zyns” last semester was kind of the best thing that’s ever happened to me.)
Director Colleen Shanahan (N’ 25) welcomes us all to the show, and we whoop with excitement. What follows is an hour and a half of wildly entertaining improv from a group of people who all seem incredibly happy to be there—and incredibly determined to ignore the repeated audience suggestion of “ballsack” when they ask us for a word. There’s something about improv that has everyone turning to the lowest common denominator for prompts. I’m not proud enough to hold back from admitting that “ballsack” did, in fact, make me laugh almost as hard as Net did.
I call myself Without a Net’s biggest fan a lot, and it’s probably not true considering I don’t know most of the members, but I think I’m up there. There’s little I enjoy more than people committing to the bit, and everyone on Net commits, and then some. Also, sue me, I like a good spot of adolescent humor. Their “sex with me” game is pretty much perfect. Being able to attend this semester’s show, my last ever Net show, after three semesters in a row where scheduling conflicts meant that I missed it, was an absolute treat.
One of the last times I went to an improv show, my car got broken into (but that’s a story for another newsletter). I’m glad to report that when I got home after the show, my car was in good form. I’m attributing that to the power of Net.
–Isaac Pollock, Senior Staff Writer
Long–Form Journalism in a Short Attention Span Era @ Kelly Writers House
If you think long–form journalism is gasping for air in the age of TikTok and 280–character debates, writers Michael Sokolove and Ann Gerhart have some news for you: It’s not dead yet. In fact, after attending their packed talk at the Kelly Writers House, I feel optimistic about its future.
Hosted by veteran journalist Dick Polman as part of the Povich Journalism Program, the discussion explored how in–depth storytelling can survive in a world where attention spans seem to be shrinking faster than print media budgets. Sokolove, a longtime New York Times Magazine contributor, and Gerhart, a deputy managing editor at The Washington Post, offered their insights and experience with the craft of narrative journalism: how it keeps evolving, how audience engagement is measured, and, crucially, how it can still compete with other sources of information.
Their conversation was candid and, at times, funny. Sokolove spoke about the power of the “I” voice in reporting, the art of keeping readers hooked, and why even hard–hitting investigative stories benefit from a good lemon meringue pie anecdote. Gerhart, meanwhile, laid out the reality of newsroom decision–making, arguing that compelling, well–reported stories still attract deep engagement, even in our so–called age of distraction.
Ultimately, the event proved that great journalism is not about resisting change but adapting to it. And if professionals like Sokolove and Gerhart are so positive and eager about the prospects of long–form journalism, there’s definitely still hope for the news business.
–Daria Knurenko, Staff Writer
