The Morning Journal (Lorain, OH)
Hometown laughs
Lorain comedian Ramon Rivas II performs free socially distanced shows in Oakwood Park
The 35-year-old Lorain native begins most of his sets with some type of loving nod toward Cleveland.
Before recording his comedy special “Ramon Rivas: Revisited” and being featured on shows like HBO Latino’s “Entre Nos,” “Broad City,” “Crashing” and Netflix’s “Cooking High,” Rivas cut his teeth in a number local bars and coffee shops, as well as downtown comedy spots like Hilarities and the Improv.
While the on-going pandemic has shut down normal operations across many industries, several comedians are now streaming their material online or performing outdoors on patios or even in parking lots.
Rivas has decided to perform free shows every Sunday at Oakwood Park in his hometown of Lorain, where audiences can enjoy his set from their car or safely spaced out on the property.
Rivas explains how the shows
work, his love for Lorain and his plans for the foreseeable future in comedy in a recent email interview.
Tell me about your decision to do free socially distanced shows.
When quarantine started, I was in the middle of a midwest tour with a small number of gigs each month through July — enough to cover bills, pay down debt and exist in Lorain.
Since I could no longer travel to various cities like N.Y. and L.A. to stay busy (and since travel would no longer be an expense I could claim on my taxes
“I went to New York for six weeks with $2,000,” comedian Ramon Rivas II says, sporting a “Cleveland Made Me” sweatshirt in his half hour special on Comedy Central. “I came back to Cleveland at the end of the six weeks with $63 — which is impressive, ‘cause New York is a very expensive city. Had I just stayed in Cleveland with that much money, I would have been ballin’ out of control for like... five months.”
since there are no gigs) I had to figure out how to maintain validity as an artist as the infrastructure and dynamics around comedy shifted and changed.
I scoured Facebook marketplace and Craigslist and found equipment to cobble together a complete set up that I can operate outdoors or indoors. This gave me control over a means of production and access for myself.
I grew up in south Lorain and knew of Oakwood Park and a lot of (other) spaces that are underutilized and did the legwork to figure out how to do everything according to the rules of public space.
Over the past few weeks, I have been adjusting the setup and accumulating more tech so people can social distance safely on the field or watch from their cars like a drive-in.
I now own all this equipment to give myself the possibility of partnering with businesses that are looking to activate their outdoor spaces, or can be commissioned for private gigs.
Why not continue to do your work via Zoom or wait it out until you can charge for shows again?
I have been doing Zoom shows over the past few months. It’s hard to promote and charge people for shows in the middle of a pandemic and civil unrest as the venues that existed for these sorts of engagements struggle to reopen safely or face closure as they struggle to access funds from the government.
I’ve heard from other comedians that doing comedy via webcam is difficult because it lacks the instant gratification of a live audience, plus lag times can be awkward. Do you feel similarly?
Not every Zoom show is done well, but a number have figured out how to make the experience enriching for artists and audiences. Nowhere Comedy Club is one of them.
A number of comics have started successful Instagram Live shows (@Ziwef and @justsydbw are among the best), seeing how people adapt inspires growth in all artists.
Did your Comedy Central special feel like your first major breakthrough in the industry?
Yeah, that was cool to be asked to film a special (my first TV appearance) while living in Ohio and not having a manager or agent advocating for me.
The coolest part was flying my family down to New Orleans for the taping. Nothing has ever felt like a shift in the moment, but looking back I can see a lot of nostalgia and happiness in most of my journey as a comedian.
Especially growing up in Lorain, I couldn’t imagine most of the experiences I’ve had. But I’m still in the same social position as always, [being] a big, broke, brown man in America.
How do you stay motivated to create new material and perform during this stressful period of time?
I’ve had reviews that say my show can feel like a one-sided therapy session.
I tend to be very transparent in talking about my experiences navigating America in a politicized body. In my Comedy Central special from 2016, I talked about my family, my singlemother sister, living as a cannabis advocate, innovating around poverty.
Do you feel comfortable touching on politics and current events?
I talk about what I experience as a big, broke comic navigating comedy. It has taken me all over this country and allowed me to connect with crowds across the cultural and socio-economic spectrum.
Does your audience feel receptive to those subjects?
I’m always surprised by who is receptive and never surprised by who is not.
You said in an interview recently that Lorain plays a big backstory in your act, which has matured over the years. Can you elaborate?
When the pandemic popped off, the big concern was the economy; what if these places close and never reopen?
I was raised in Lorain from the mid ‘80s through today. I’ve seen shipyards, steelyards, and the auto industry — which used to have Lorain vibrant and thriving — all collapse as I grew up.
I saw the whole economic infrastructure of south Lorain — from grocery stores, movie theaters and schools — close. They even tore down Safety Town! Our post office has been cash for gold since the early 2000s. To the outside observer, Lorain has no “value.”
But it has always and will always be rich in humanity and culture.
Those industries recruited immigrants from all over the world and Lorain became a mosaic of cultures and people who exist together in their pursuit of liberty.
That has tremendous value to me and the spirit of humanity is often overlooked and undervalued in a capitalist society.
So, coming from a place that underwent all of these big systemic shifts informed my life, and as I read, inform myself and travel more, it broadens my perspective and experience.
Which do you prefer, performing in NEO or on the road?
Well, with Ohio being a “purple state,” shows can run the gamut of composition. So performing in NEO venues can feel like the road without having to leave.
Do you plan to hit the road again when things return to at least vaguely “normal” operations?
I’ve learned not to plan in this field. Who knows what it’ll shift to going forward, but I’ll continue staying sharp and fighting for proper consideration for myself and other artists where I can.
What can you say about any other comedians joining you in these free shows? You’ve mentioned a big focus on diversity. Do you see this as a continuing issue in comedy today?
I just kind of do the show and a random mix of comics from the greater Cleveland area pop out.
Representation and visibility will always be an issue when there’s a bias and an imbalance in consideration for nonwhite, non-masculine voices. If you look at the clubs that are reopening around the country or in the area, they tend to have a distinctly homogeneous type of comic.
I [recently] advocated [for a club] to have a female feature act and Holly Lynnea — a great comic out of Louisville — was scheduled to do it. As the club reopened, and the opening lineup was revealed, I was the only non-white comic headlining; no women or women of color were represented.
This bothered me, so I emailed them and offered to correct the oversight by converting to a co-headlining weekend with Holly, and adjusting my pay so we get paid the same amount.
I did this knowing it was likely my last weekend of professional work in 2020.
The booker asked me three times if I was sure.
The club decided to stop doing shows before my weekend so it [ended up] a moot point but still a conversation I decided to use my precarious position to have.
What should we know about your upcoming free shows in Lorain?
[These] shows should be treated as a PG-13 experience, meaning it may be a bit much for young kids (fortunately there’s a playground nearby and the whole park for the kids to explore) but teens to adults will enjoy.
It’s a bunch of adult comedians talking about their experiences, so it ranges from dating to family dynamics to poverty, to work, to pop culture, to politics, and anything in their brain. I ask comics to be mindful of their language but to feel free to push the envelope content and thought wise.
I love seeing masks [at the shows]! Groups often lay out picnic blankets or camping chairs and spread out in the field between the hill and the pool with masks, or I have the tech so people can sit in their cars and listen without masks if that’s preferred.
The shows are free.
If people would like to support the show, they can visit blazerramon.com and purchase a shirt from my merch store — $10 of every shirt goes toward these free public performances.
I purchased all the equipment and pay comics out of pocket for each show. I do this whether I sell shirts or not. I’d rather build a model that compensates artists for their time than one based on free labor.
If anyone would like to support my artistry directly, I have an account with Patreon as well as Venmo.
For a more passive way to support, consider streaming my special “Ramon Rivas: Revisited” on Apple Music, Spotify, Pandora, Tidal, etc. I make pennies every time the album is streamed in its entirety, which adds up to a phone bill a month!
“I talk about what I experience as a big, broke comic navigating comedy. It has taken me all over this country and allowed me to connect with crowds across the cultural and socioeconomic spectrum.”
— Ramon Rivas II