Making her debut, Kiran Saggu brings her show, Slacks, to the Edinburgh Fringe, a show about work and flourishing under pressure from a capitalism-driven society. Saggu talks to Katerina Partolina Schwartz about debuting, what inspired her to turn to comedy and the endemic of men who talked to her about doing comedy.
What is the elevator pitch for your show?
It’s a show about how I hate hard work but not actually. It’s me wondering, “Must I get my ass up and work?” in the context of being a first-and-second-generation immigrant, an American-Brit, and struggling with that. ‘Slacks’ I thought was a fun one-liner word in that it embodies the fact that like, ‘Kiran Saggu Slacks.’ It’s like slacks are working pants or something you wear to the office, but it’s also like I’m a slacker, I see myself as a slacker even though I’m working. And also, I love fashion, I love the idea of ‘dress for the job you want.’ It’s sort of an ironic take on that. It’s observational and a little bit of surreal humour and very silly. Very, very silly.
What inspired you to write this particular hour for your debut?
My parents are both Indian and neither of them were born in the West; my mother was born in Kenya and my dad was born in India and at some point they emigrated to the UK, and then they emigrated to the States, and I was born in the States. Then I came back to England – well not back for me, back for them – when I was 16. So, I spent the beginning part of my life in the US and then ended up in the UK. The US is obviously super capitalist and having immigrant parents in the West and especially in the US is a lot of pressure. A big part of this show is balancing that. Also, I don’t have any family in the arts at all, none of them I would consider to be creatives. So, just in doing comedy, this process of creating a show, I’ve learned how many people just have somebody they know help them along their journey, or even just knowing someone that is a creative emboldens them to be able to do comedy or be a creative, so it was extra – I don’t want to say exceptional – but for me it was extra even taboo for me to be doing this. Hence the privilege and the guilt of it.
What was your writing process like for this show?
I looked at all the jokes that I had, and I realised that I had an underlying guilt. I mean I have a day-job right, but I have an underlying guilt of, “This is clearly that I spend most of my energy on, creating these jokes and talking about my cultural experiences,” and I wondered why I feel guilty about putting most of my work efforts into that, or feeling more passionate about that than what I previously considered to be a traditional career or realistic career. Then I realised that was the show; exploring that idea of feeling so privileged and a little bit guilty to be able to do this.
Was there anything that you learned or came to the realisation about whilst writing this hour?
Honestly, it was more so exploring the idea that I was saying of feeling guilty but privileged to do comedy. And also, in a way, I’ve always had this approach but, I feel like things that I’m really passionate about, I don’t take that seriously because it just helps my general mindset. Comedy is great because that’s one thing you can work hard at without taking it seriously. That’s the whole idea of it. If you take it too seriously, then it becomes difficult and you’re not your best performer. So, learning not to take myself seriously ironically.
What do you hope audiences will take away from your show?
That I think that it’s okay to have a complicated relationship with what it means to work hard and what exactly constitutes work.
What was it that drew you to comedy in the first place?
I joked that I was inspired by the heaps of relatively average white men doing comedy. I also just love the art form. I think one of the coolest things about comedy is that you really just need yourself and that’s it. I do think in some ways it’s kind of a meritocracy in that I think if you are talented and work really hard, someday something can maybe happen for you. At least I want to believe that.
I’m really wondering how many men told you that they could be stand- up comedians that it became so endemic that it made it into your hour?
Oh yeah, so many. So. Many. And that ranges from just people on dating apps commenting something about that and people I meet in real life and people I do end up dating.
From your own experiences, what would you say is the biggest difference between US and UK comedy?
I started comedy here in the UK, in London. I’ve performed once in Miami and I performed in a bunch of other places in Europe, but primarily here yeah.
I think people tend to tense up a bit more with racial humour a lot of the time in the UK. I think humour about culture and race is the foundation of comedy in the US, those cultural differences because, I mean it is essentially a quote unquote “melting pot,” everyone’s from everywhere. Whereas at least for me here, it’s about English culture and my perspective of English culture based on my different background. But yeah, political and some cultural commentary, people tend to tense up, especially out of London.
What are you looking forward to the most about making your Edinburgh Fringe debut?
I just love connecting to people in the audience that have watched my show or watched my material, and they relate to it in a unique way that they haven’t had before or seen before from other comedians. Even just people seeing my poster; sometimes people would see my name and go, “Oh she’s Punjabi, that’s so cool! I want to watch her show,” That connection is so priceless to me, I really love to be part of that. I’m just really excited to try and make something that other people like me and my family can be proud of. That’s another goal of mine, that’s important to me.
