Photo: Steve Rogers
Photo: Steve Rogers

Draw Me In

Miryam Coppersmith

Fringe is made for shows like Wear and Tear. Performed at the home of Philly Improv Theater (PIT), The Back Pack puts on a sketch comedy show unlike any I’ve seen. The hook: all of the performers wear backpacks made of pads of paper covered in black-and-white drawings and held together with elastic bands. Like a blown-up flip-book mixed with old-style slapstick, they change scenes by tearing off pages to reveal new drawings and embody whatever their paper shows (sometimes reluctantly). The silent performers convey story through these drawings, their bodies, facial expressions, and music. I appreciate the simplicity of the comedy relying on turns, clever associations, and reveals rather than gross-outs, innuendo, or pop culture references. Mostly. There is a Game of Thrones sketch, but if you don’t want to be spoiled, you can grab a paper blindfold from Katie Kohler.

Each sketch leaves the stage strewn with paper (and sometimes confetti), prompting Pete Betcher to take out his real 3D broom disguised as a 2D rake. Cami Alys, a tree trunk drawn on her backpack, frustrates his sweeping. Playing breezy jazz, she coyly tears off paper leaves and drops them, adding to the piles to sweep up. Betcher eventually resorts to bringing out a real leaf blower. This play between 2D and 3D creates delight throughout the show, as do the dance breaks when the performers sling their backpacks over their heads and bust out their best moves. They throw themselves into these simple party dances (Delanté Keys twerks as drawings of money are thrown his way) re-energizing the show.

With the physical limitation of ripping paper to transition from one idea to the next, the performance has a refreshingly slower pace than most comedy. The performers put the audience at ease through their unhurried commitment to each idea. This year’s show features more short sketches than 2018’s Drawn Out and I did miss the ability to spend a longer time connecting to the characters. One I wanted to linger on: Betcher’s blue crayon. After being discarded for some sharp colored pencils, he slumps on stage holding a pack of his companions and gazing towards a cool blue light; a silent and achingly funny soliloquy.

Wear and Tear, The Back Pack, Philly Improv Theater at the Adrienne, 2019 Fringe Festival, September 5–8.

Share this article

Miryam Coppersmith

Miryam Coppersmith is a performance artist, writer and educator who aims to create spaces for transformation for her collaborators, audience, and greater community. She currently serves as the Executive Director for thINKingDANCE.

PARTNER CONTENT

Keep Reading

Variety and Conformity in Community Work

Zoe Farnsworth

The enthusiasm and community were vibrant, but the choreography left me wanting more at Philly Dance Day's 2026 Showcase

Several lines of students are mid bounce/step, focused on executing the choreography. All face front toward a wall lined with mirrors. The instructor stands in the middle of the front row of dancers. Participants wear a variety of athletic wear–workout sweats, tanks, shorts, long-sleeve zip ups–and most dance in sneakers.
Photo: Kirwei Lo

A witch, some kitsch, and a theory walk into a book

Jennifer Passios

On Liz Lerman’s "Shape and Momentum"

Nia Love, Vincent Thomas, Miko Doi-Smith, Paloma McGregor, Will Bond, Leah Cox, Elisa García Radcliffe, and Ruby Morales in Wicked Bodies at Arizona State University, Gammage (2022). Organized in three staggered lines atop individual black stools, (three dancers, two dancers, three dancers), the performers each assume a “superman” position on their stomachs, back muscles taught as arms and legs lift off. The dancers wear an array of costumes (billowing pants, structured blazer, expansive gauzy skirt, a polka dot jumper) in shades of black, white, fuchsia, and red. Collectively, they cast their gaze stage left, the direction of their “flight” as haze descends over the top ⅔ of the stage height.
Photo: Tim Trumble