I managed to see Steve Martin live once at a nominally non-comedy event. I suspect I was one of the few in the audience for whom he was not the principle draw .... I'd know his name and a few brief bits of his work (in pre-YouTube days, word of mouth and re-enactments by friends were often all one had to go by).
Over the course of the evening I came to admire his real skill and talent in sensing the comedic moment and timing. Whilst it's true he had no peers in that regard on stage, he really did shine. And I believe a banjo was involved.
People often ask famous comedians, "How do I break into comedy?" As if there were some secret that they could just copy.
We're indebted to Steve Martin for telling us the painful truth: you just have to get out and be terrible, over and over, and maybe you'll get better over time.
If you're lucky, and you're good. Lucky, good, and persistent: those are the secrets.
What a great read. I grew up watching Steve in his peak years - maybe it's just childhood nostalgia but there was always something thrilling and transcendent there, like anything could happen. Interesting to hear the creative directions he was trying to go in and how the act developed.
It really isn't, and yet the gruelling, brutal apprenticeship described in the article all happened before this moment. This was his 16th (!) appearance on the Tonight Show and seemingly the one that broke him into celebrity status; at least the article implies that. The earlier ones were probably even worse; I seem to recall watching some that were terrible.
Then something like 2 or 3 years later, he's the genius-level Steve Martin. The only thing in the video that feels like genius Steve is the physicality of the speedy bit at the end. The writing isn't that good, but his execution is impeccable. You can see his combination of wildness and precision. It's easy to see how it took many thousands of performances, plus incredible talent, to get to that level of control over his instrument.
He describes this wonderfully in the OP:
"The act tightened. It became more physical. It was true I couldn't sing or dance, but singing funny and dancing funny were another matter."
"The new physicality brought an unexpected element into the act: precision. My routines wove the verbal with the physical, and I found pleasure trying to bring them in line. Each spoken idea had to be physically expressed as well. My teenage attempt at a magician's grace was being transformed into an awkward comic grace. I felt as though every part of me was working. Some nights it seemed that it wasn't the line that got the laugh, but the tip of my finger. I tried to make voice and posture as crucial as jokes and gags."
Over the course of the evening I came to admire his real skill and talent in sensing the comedic moment and timing. Whilst it's true he had no peers in that regard on stage, he really did shine. And I believe a banjo was involved.