Reflecting on the spread of the Improv Meme

Of late, I find myself teaching and coaching high and low throughout Portland. Some days I go from teaching college improv, to coaching middle schoolers, to coaching professional performers, to coaching organizations. As a scholar on the subject and a fanatic, I’ve developed a tendency to help the young and new to the art connect it to their lives, or, more importantly how it can connect ‘their’ lives.

It is not at all necessary for someone to shoot for a stage career in improv (and as many of us know, not a lucrative path to take), but everyone can benefit from becoming a better listener, noticer, supporter, and initiator. One thing that has been causing me to reflect is how a majority of American youth that I work with are so steeped in the put down. I would love to look into the reasons/causes of this phenomenon. Is it brain development? Is it western industrial culture? Is it socialization? Is it a blend of these? My training leads me to believe in the blend because there is no simple magic bullet when it comes to dealing in human behaviors. We are affected by and affect the systems and contexts that we encounter and inhabit.

If there’s one thing improv training can do, it is to help us explore and master that reality of human existence. If we can accept that we are vulnerable and can find strength in finding an emotional center in our lives, we can move from that center to create connection and embark on challenging journeys toward discovering what our experiences and connections have to offer in terms of satisfaction and growth. The habits of listening, noticing, supporting, and initiating (the keys of collaboration and cooperation) are our birthright as humans.

So, as I write this, teach that, and perform something else, I get to proselytize and advocate for all of the things I hope to see emergent in the generations coming up. In my mind, our scions lived by a similar code of cooperation and collaboration (more often than not), and when I read about riots, and occupy, and protests, and disaster response, and happenings; I like to think that I am seeing the stirrings of a long slumber. The defectors who have stopped listening, stopped noticing, stopped supporting, and stopped initiating are beginning to be recognized for who they are (even if they are ourselves). The beauty of this realization can even be explored through the lens of improv in that mistakes are opportunities to notice ‘the now’. With an edit, or with an agreement, or with an embellishment; we can change our course and emerge from the dark underworld of tragedy and separation to the sunny skies of comedy and connection.

5 Tenets of Ensemble Play

1) Keep it as equal as possible: Unless you’ve been elected to be the director/coach/teacher, it’s not the best of ideas to elect yourself to be the person who tells the ensemble what to do and how to play before you hit stage. This tends to communicate that you don’t trust the ensemble to succeed, and it suggests that you believe that you’re the only competent member. In both cases, you’re alienating yourself. Give it up. Trust the process, or have an ensemble meeting to deal with the tension and get to the heart of the matter. A functional family can talk about its difficulties.

2) Contribute: If there are 7 members of your troupe, everyone should be striving to be doing 1/7th of the stage work. This is not always possible, but in the grand scheme people will notice if you’re a hog who’s onstage for every scene or that you’ve been in 4 shows and only been in 2 scenes posing as pieces of the environment. This can lead to varying degrees of resentment. Buck up and add more or relax and trust that people can manage a scene without you. Be honest with each other about trends in how ensemble members contribute. It’s about making the work as tight and good as possible. Spend time in rehearsal finding out how your team of improvisers works best together to maximize contributions.

3) Rehearse: It doesn’t matter how skilled ‘you’ are. If an ensemble doesn’t take time to check in with each other and stay practiced, it’s going to turn into an all-star game when you hit the stage. Meaning that you’ll all be out to make yourselves look good, and you’ll have little clue on how to connect with each other and elevate the quality of the work. The show may be funny, but it will rarely rise to ‘amazing’ or ‘sublime’ without that background of ensemble building through socializing and regular organized play away from a crowd.

4) Decompress: An ensemble that takes time to recognize where they ‘got it right’, as well as where they ‘got it wrong’, is constructing a vocabulary of strategy. Taking note of your ensembles’ strategies in approaching the work can help identify members’ styles of play and how to best combine them, as well as recognizing unproductive avenues or “ruts” in the work. Keep your focus on the work and don’t take this review process personally. If you do take it personally, have a rational discussion about it when you’re ready to talk in reasonable tones. Nothing hurts an ensemble more than a member who flies into rages or fits, whether they are justified or not.

5) Socialize: Hang out as citizens. Plan a dinner party, movie night, breakfast, camp-out, weekend outing. Getting together as people really helps you all learn what each others’ knowledge base and hopes and dreams are. A good ensemble has the potential to grow into a good group of friends. That enjoyment of each other translates to fluid connected work onstage because it’s a no-brainer supporting people that you’re familiar with and like. Decreasing that social gap of unfamiliarity will only help an ensemble, but it can sometimes lead to marriages and babies. Fair warning.

Roadblocks to Connection: “Sorry” and “Worry”

One of the first big ideas I introduce to new students is how “Sorry” and “Worry” are the biggest enemies to good improvisation. I do this because it’s the first thing that I consistently see operating in beginning improv classes filled with new students. It’s our default as humans when facing a new social landscape. It’s all hinged on our desire to connect and be social. We do incredible things as people to preserve and maintain that channel and potential for connection.

Some people starve themselves thinking that, if they were thinner, people would like them. Some people buy lots of things thinking that, if they have stuff, people will like them. Many homosexuals spend years hiding their identities just to insure that people will like them, while others commit suicide because they cannot bear the threat of losing their social connections. Suffice it to say, connection is one of the prime motivators in the human world. So the thought of isolation, rejection or being found ‘unworthy’ is a terror we all share to some degree.

When we let this terror grip us, we fall to our baser instincts for self-preservation. If we have no faith in ‘us’, than it’s gonna be about ‘me’. This brings us back to the Sorry/Worry discussion. ‘Sorry’ is a focus on the past. It is the fear that something you’ve done will get you voted off the island; thrown out of the group; talked about in the break room. It distracts you. ‘Worry’ is focus on the future. It is the fear that you will fail, be wrong, or otherwise embarrass yourself which could possibly lead to getting voted off the island; thrown out of the group or talked about in the break room. It prevents you from taking action. Both of these fear-based thought processes draw your attention and focus from what’s going on in front of you. When we’re drawn away from the here and now, we miss details, nuances and sometimes the entire point of what is happening.

In my experience teaching improvisation, the heart of a majority of problems students encounter are situated in fear whose continuum is situated between our two perpetrators; sorry and worry. People can be putting out the best offers, acting and stage presence possible, and their scene partners, gripped by worry or distracted by sorry, are unable to connect with them to use those things to create the scene in concert with their partners. They are just not mentally ‘there’ for them, but instead are enthralled by the possibility of failure or looking back on failure. The best improvisers tend to be those that can fail, learn and move on to connect back up with their partners. The tighter you hold onto failure, the harder it is to hold onto anything else.

‘Yes And’ for Newbies

Improvised Theater has no script. No one made a map, and no one gets a moment to plan. That’s fine; I hate memorizing anyway, but how the heck are we just going to make up a scene both worthy of doing and worthy of being watched? All we have to do is be funny, isn’t that what improv is? That’s where I came from when I got to my first improv class. I thought it was about cracking jokes and regurgitating pop-culture puns and gags. I missed things a lot because I was worried about getting a laugh, and I didn’t really listen.

Then I got my first lessons in improvised theater and found that it wasn’t that easy to be funny with someone. I was funny, but when I had to make a scene funny with someone else, it was a struggle. I got a laugh or two, but the scene didn’t make much sense in the end. There had to be a way to simplify this process and guide this interaction.

Like a beam of light that helped give form to the darkness, the idea of “Yes, And…” was delivered by my first teacher. It was like the singing of cherubs, improv cherubs that drank and smoked. After 15 years of doing and teaching improv though, I still find it a tricky thing to consider and understand, but it’s one of the key ideas at the root of a majority of successful and fun scenes and still is one of the most important ideas in Improvised Theater. It’s a tool that helps bring a little order to the madness for an individual, but it also helps us discover newer better madness as a group.

In this article, you’ll hear why listening is the key to everything else. You’ll learn why and how agreeing can give you solid ground to stand on to develop a scene, characters, and relationships on the fly, and you’ll learn how to make all of those things more detailed and important, which ultimately will make them funnier and more interesting for everyone. All of this will help you understand the engine that helps improvised scenes go, the E=MC2 of improvised theater: “Yes, And”.

Listen Up! This is Important.

Of all the skills that improvised theater uses, listening is the most essential. Things would be really easy if all you needed to do was say funny things, but since we’re working with others to find the meaning and the humor in a scenario, we had better start paying attention to what’s being said and done by our scene partners. Improvisers have to listen with their ears and their eyes. Because we’re making up everything that can be done in theater like the places to stand and move, the dialogue, the motivations of a character, the setting, and how these characters interact; we need to keep track of almost everything that is said and done from the moment our scene starts.

Have you ever been to a party and one person just keeps talking and never stops? Have you ever started talking to someone, and they seem to check out just waiting for the next moment they can talk? Those kinds of experiences tend to leave us feeling unwanted, un-needed, and ultimately uninterested in putting the effort towards connecting with that person, even if they are funny. When our fellow players are all we have onstage to help us make the scene work, it is incredibly important that we keep our eyes and ears open for clues, hints, and signs of what the characters (that our fellow players are portraying) are doing, meaning, and saying. Understanding something is the essence of listening. In order for the two or more of you improvising a scene to stay on the same page, you need to listen.

Try repeating things that are said by your scene partner(s) in your head or re-iterate what they said when you respond. For actions, watch your partners eyes, face and body so you don’t miss how they and or their character is feeling and behaving or what sort of activity they may be depicting with pantomime.

It’s a measure of goodwill towards the person you are doing a scene with that you are present, available, and actively engaged. It will become obvious very quickly if you missed the fact that your partner just referred to you as a “doctor”, and you go on to say how you love being a “mechanic”. People will take notice if your scene partner depicted walking through mud to get to you, but you walk back the same way without depicting walking through mud (even though you watched them ‘walk through mud’ to get there). This is why it is important to listen with your eyes and ears. The details that continue to get portrayed bring the audience into the reality developing in the scene.

Not all of humor and life occurs in the world of words: a lot of meaning and comedy is conveyed by things that are done and never said. In order to build on anything to make a bigger and better scene, we need to make sure we know what we have. The definition of improvisation is “to make, provide, or arrange from whatever materials are readily available”. Everything that is said and done in your scene is the readily available material. Listening is how we compile and maintain an inventory of what we’ve got to play with.

Listening well saves us from having to invent every word and action. It helps us by providing fuel for identifying useful patterns in words, actions, ideas, and emotions. These patterns are a gateway to making sense and finding comedy in our scenes. Being able to capture all of that information requires paying attention with both your eyes and ears. If you have a hard time listening, you’ll have a hard time improvising theater well.

Agreeing Makes Things Happen

Remember when you were a kid, and you would bounce from your mom to your dad in hopes of getting a “Yes” to do something? Getting that yes meant that you could go to the movie, have a sleepover, get another cookie, fly to visit Grandma, take the field trip to the aquarium, or any number of other cool things that you wanted to do. Guess what, that’s what saying, doing and being “Yes” or agreeing is all about in improvising theater. It’s a way to:

• Establish the scene
• Move the action forward
• Put everyone on the same page

Agreeing is a how improvisers get onto the same page. If I come onstage and call you “Dad”, to agree would be to act and talk like someone who is a father to my character. If you stare off into the distance and say to me “I love the sunset in Cancun”, to agree I would stare in the same direction you are and act like I was watching the same sunset and maybe say something like “Look at those reds and oranges.” In improv, this sort of thing can be referred to as “setting a platform”, or creating a basic reality in the first few exchanges. The richer and more detailed your first exchanges are, the stronger the start of your improvised scene will be.

Let’s compare two different scene openings.
1) I say, “Hey Buddy, I’m dropping off the thing.” I act like I’m placing something about a foot wide on a pretend table near you. You respond, “Thanks Man, cool thing.” while looking at the space where the “thing” was placed.
2) I say, “Dr. Paraguay, I’ve returned with the samples from the insects you’ve collected.” I act like I’m setting something down on a table and pulling smaller things out of it to look at them. You (Dr. Paraguay) respond, “Thank you Enrique, I think the cure for your nightmares lies in these samples” You act like you’re taking small things from Enrique’s (my) hands and holding them up in the air while looking at them.

In both scenarios we agreed to the first things. However, the second example got us a lot farther in terms of setting up what is going on in the scene. Setting out specifics in terms of ‘who we are’, ‘what we’re doing’, and if possible, ‘why we’re doing them’ can help finding a nice strong platform to agree on in order to build the rest of the scene together.

Being and Doing ‘Yes’

When a lot of people first start learning and doing improv, they find that being positive and finding common ground with their scene partner is difficult. Think about the things many of us are taught on our way to adulthood. We’re taught to draw boundaries, protect our own stuff, question the motives of others, and ,in general, have a healthy skepticism in life. The flip side to this is that most of us have also learned to lie, cheat, steal, and take advantage of people. Most of us learned these things the hard way by being lied to, cheated, stolen from, or taken advantage of. These are the things that replace our childhood innocence and naiveté because they are the undeniable reality of social life on some level whether we like it or not. They are also lessons that help us navigate the adult world effectively.

Improvised Theater requires us to get over that defensive ‘stay your ground/stay in control’ programming. Agreement is the first big hurdle to jump. It’s essence is that we accept the developing world of this scene as real and matter-of-fact, and be willing to surrender to other interpretations that fit what’s going on.

For instance:
1) You say, “Trevor, the feral sheep have surrounded the house. We’re trapped!” I (Trevor) say, “Damn their wool!” while shaking a fist in the air.
2) As opposed to you saying, “Trevor, the feral sheep have surrounded the house. We’re trapped!” with me (Trevor) responding, “Actually, we’re in your bedroom playing a video game” while crossing my arms.

The first exchange really helps us feel the tension of the situation, and the crisis is compelling and interesting. The second exchange deflates the tension and returns us to ‘everything is fine’ mode. It negated ‘what was going on’ in the scene. The second iteration took away the whole first offer of the scene. There is now very little to be compelled by or interested in. We’re essentially starting another scene and not using what our partner said at all. This is what would be considered “Blocking” within a scene.

Jargon Alert
“Blocking” is a term used to describe moves in an improv scene that negate and/or cancel information or actions that have already been put forth through dialogue or pantomime.

What I’m getting at by saying that we should ‘be’ and ‘do’ yes is working on re-training ourselves to accept and/or appreciate things as they change or become apparent, and act on the new reality rather than struggle with it. Being “Yes” is a matter of allowing ideas outside of your own into the game, scene, or show; and Doing “yes” means being as supportive, affirming and accepting of those ideas as you are to your own. The better you become at this in improvisation, the more fluid and fun the scene will be for you and your partners and the struggle to make a scene work will start to go away.

Only Fools Agree to Everything

Wait a minute, isn’t all drama driven by conflict? Can’t you say “No” to anything? Do improvisers just become passive robots that say “Yes” to everything? Yes. Yes, and yes. Hold on. No to the third.

When we’re talking about agreement, we’re really referring to the facts and figures of the reality of the scene. There are certain largely set parts of our reality. The sky is blue. Water is wet. Gravity keeps us on the ground. We have parents (somewhere), or had parents (somewhere). These are the facts of living on the earth as a human. Other places have rules too. It’s absolute zero. Lethal radiation permeates the surroundings. There is little to no gravity. These are the facts of living in space. The things that are agreed to in scenework are typically things of this order. They are the rules of how this imaginary reality works.

Characters can have different wants and needs. People say “no” to things they don’t want to do or to things they don’t believe in all the time. This is how we set boundaries in life and solidify our unique identities. This is another fact of living as a human being. Saying “no” or disagreeing to something that your character doesn’t believe in or want is definitely allowable, BUT agreeing to an action while voicing your character’s ‘dislike for’ or ‘doubt in’ the action moves the scene forward and allows the audience and your fellow players to learn something about your character. I guess that would mean that your character can disagree, but you as a player are still responsible for helping the action continue and build. Which means characters can be disagreeable, but players are tasked with finding ways for their disagreeable characters to keep the action in a scene moving to help advance the story/the scene.

For example:
1) Disagreeing – “Mildred, there’s glass everywhere. Could you please sweep up?” You, “I have a Harvard MBA. I don’t sweep.” You cross your arms.
2) Disagreeable – “Mildred, there’s glass everywhere. Could you please sweep up?” You, mime sweeping in a frustrated angry manner and say, “I have a Harvard MBA. I don’t see why ‘I’ have to sweep.”

The first disagreement stops action from happening and tells us something about your character. It’s a lose-win scenario. The second version where you are ‘disagreeable’ keeps the action moving forward AND tells us something about your character. It’s a win-win scenario. The first is “blocking” action, and the second is not. It’s ok if your character doesn’t ‘like’ some things. It’s a difficult road to travel if your character doesn’t ‘do’ things, or rarely does things. Play nice, and pitch in. Be a good example of a generous player. There’s also the other option of just being Agreeable:

“Mildred, there’s glass everywhere. Could you please sweep up?” You, “This here’s a class 5 shatter. It’s a thin glass that fragments easy and it covers nearly 1 square foot. Of course, I’m certified for up to class 11 shatters…You don’t ever want to see one of those.” You shudder, sniffle and pretend to start crying.

If you are just beginning in improvised theater, it is better to focus on how to agree and be agreeable, than to hunt for loopholes that may allow you to keep being negative in scenes. Even after 15 years of performing improv, I still need to be reminded that being positive and agreeable gets you a lot farther in scenes and stories than being negative and defensive.

“And” moving right along

So we’ve seen how agreeing on things can help us build a platform to stand on for our scene. Let’s start working on how we can build things up from that platform. It’s time for “And”! The lovely sister to the “Yes” in improvised theater. “Yes” is definitely a well-liked guy, but “And” is the life of the party. She has this way of making everything bigger, better and more important. Just like her function as a conjunction suggests, she’s all about connecting things and making them bigger and better. She adds meaning, depth and flare. I also like to refer to this vixen of an improv rule as “heightening”.

In some of the examples in the section on “Yes”, you may have noticed that I added a lot more details and descriptors to an initial exchange in order to make it more distinct. With “And” or heightening we are doing the same thing; only we are doing that with our reactions or verbal responses to our scene partners. In theater, it’s best to work on creating tension and filling in some of the story with exposition, which is a fancy way of saying ‘expanding on’ or ‘explaining’ something. Heightening or “Anding” is how we do that when we’re improvising theater.

Remember this exchange from the section on “Yes”:

1) I say, “Hey Buddy, I’m dropping off the thing.” I act like I’m placing something about a foot wide on a pretend table near you. You respond, “Thanks Man, cool thing.” while looking at the space where the “thing” was placed.
2) I say, “Dr. Paraguay, I’ve returned with the samples from the insects you’ve collected.” I act like I’m setting something down on a table and pulling smaller things out of it to look at them. You (Dr. Paraguay) respond, “Thank you Enrique, I think the cure for your nightmares lies in these samples” You act like you’re taking small things from Enrique’s (my) hands and holding them up in the air while looking at them.

In this section, we’re going to look at the reasons why the second exchange is better in order to understand what it means to heighten or “And” something, and how we go about doing that.

The Magic of Addition

Adding things to an idea, movement or phrase makes them more complex and, presumably more meaningful. For example, there’s a big difference between setting a file down on a desk and walking away – and setting a file down on a desk, winking, making a clicking sound with your mouth, and pretending to shoot at someone with your pointer finger and your thumb . One action is average or mundane, and the other is a lot more interesting and curious. The ‘interesting and curious complex file drop-off’ leaves the viewer with a lot more questions in their head like: ‘Is he just wierd?’, ‘Was that a come on?’, ‘Is there something really good in that file?’. The mundane file drop-off leaves us with one main question, ‘what’s in the file?’. An important question for sure, but when we’re initiating and working through improvised scenes, it’s important that we give the audience a lot of things to be curious about.

The more we add to our moves, be they physical or verbal, the more interesting they become. Don’t get ahead of yourself, though. Adding 25 things to one move is overkill. Adding 2-3 things is usually enough. These additions:

• Help define the scene
• Help color our exchanges
• Help boost the importance of anything

In the second example above, the additions tell us a lot about who these characters are (Dr. Paraguay and Enrique), what they are doing (taking insect samples), and even a hint of why they are doing this (to cure Enrique’s “nightmares”). When you begin to add that sort of information to the mix, you reduce your options down from infinity to a more manageable reality in just a couple of exchanges. That will help you immensely and help you avoid brain-lock onstage.

Brain-lock usually occurs because a thousand ideas crash together, explode and leave you blank, or you think you’ll make a “bad” choice. Making ANY choice and moving forward is always better than NOT making a choice and freezing. You don’t have to be clever. You don’t need to get a laugh with every line. Just choose something, do it, and watch how it affects the action to figure out what to do next.

Details, Details

You and your scene partner should play like you have all the goods on the characters that each of you is playing in the scene and the world they live in. So spill it! Make up specific things about your character or your scene partner’s character and the world they live in. Help ‘us’ (your scene partner included) understand these characters and this world. Try lines that give us some cool information.
Lines like:

• “I had no idea you were an internationally renowned boy scout.”
• “You gave me hope when you learned to walk after your skating accident.”
• “So you’re Richard LePetomane. I never thought I’d bump into you outside the Moulin Rouge.”
• “By golly, these strawberries are as big as my head. No, seriously, look at how friggin big this thing is. The radioactive fertilizer is working.”
• “Your eyes. They’re silver. It’s true then. You’re a Moon Wizard.”
• “We’re the last two golfers left in this tournament. I may as well tell you that I’m an android programmed to defeat you.”
• “We are not allowed to speak the name Joseph on the plains. Our people mourn his passing.
• “I was Waitress of the Year for the United States in 1977. I miss those days of disco and hamburgers.”

Details go a long way in helping us expand on our characters, and our worlds. By doing this, we help ourselves out by defining our characters and world. This means a lot less guess work will be needed moving forward into your scene. These sorts of details in your first lines makes for a great initiation.

An “Initiation” is what a lot of improvisers call the beginning of a scene. It’s usually the first exchange or two at the beginning that help to set up characters, activities, relationships, maybe some history and a place.

Listening is the key to improvised theater. If you’re not catching any of these cool details, you can’t use them to do a lot of different things like ‘letting something specific emotionally affect your character’, ‘understand the world these characters live in’, ‘share in an activity’, or ‘learn something about your character or anyone’s character’. Stay in the game. Make eye contact. Listen.

Once more with Feeling

The highest and lowest points of peoples’ lives are riddled with waves of intense emotion. Everyone has a mechanism for dealing with strong emotion. It’s part of the human experience to encounter difficulty and success on some level. When people go to see theater, they’re not going to see something where there is no change, where no one reacts to anything. People come to improvised theater because of the crazy places we can take them, where people live out exciting, tense, amazing, serene and sweet lives. They want to see people do things in life that require guts and make them vulnerable. They want heroes and villains and the people in between. Why? Because these are people who are willing to show how they feel and stick to their convictions. So showing feelings and using emotions in reaction to something is one of the best ways to add something, to “and” something.

There’s a reason performances are called “shows”. You should be showing us something. If you express your character’s feelings with your body, face, and voice, it will help your scene partner and your audience understand what is important to you and what’s important in the improvised scene. Once you’ve uttered or embodied some sort of emotion, make up something that fits the logic of having that reaction.

Like This:
• I say, “Drake, these are the candles you asked for.” You stroke the pretend candles slowly and let a huge smile cross your face then say, “This is going to be the best birthday ever” or “Perfect. Now we can begin the third stage of the ritual of Karnac” or “You are the most thoughtful knight in the whole order” or “Thank you, I will be able to continue the vigil for our father.”
• I say, “Drake, these are the candles you asked for.” You back away in fear and say, “I’m not sure I want to accept candles from someone who has turned into a vampire” or “It’s been 43 years, and you haven’t aged a day” or “I had no idea that they’d be in such horrible macabre shapes.”
• I say, “Drake, these are the candles you asked for.” You point your finger at me and with a clenched jaw say. “It’s been 43 years! What the hell, Simon?!” or “Those are all red, and you knew I needed black for the Ritual of Karnac. You cannot prevent his calling!” or “I’ve changed my mind, Wilt. I’m NOT going to transform you into Casanova, and that’s final.”

In these three examples, you can see that the responses agree logically with the emotional reaction. Reacting emotionally, in any way, to one of your scene partner’s lines or actions makes those lines or actions immediately more important in the scene. This gives us a trail to follow in discovering the rest of the scene.

Anger is a ‘go to’ emotion in beginner and intermediate players. It’s instant conflict, AND it’s a natural defense against unfamiliar and uncomfortable situations like making up theater on the fly. Unfortunately, it tends to lead towards argumentative scenes. These types of scenes are tense for a while but can get boring fast if they’re about trivial things. Be measured with anger when you’re improvising. Try to discover anger more than lead with it, and find ways out of that anger with your scene partner if you fall in too deep.

It is also vital that you bounce between emotions within a scene or story. It’s funny to see people go through rapid or unusual changes in emotion. It’s funny to see people move from fear to relief, sadness to joy. That’s the ‘tense and release’ nature of human relationships. That’s part of the changing and moving forward function of heightening/Anding. Too much of one emotion without another emotion to counter-balance it can lead improvised scenes into corners. If you find yourself ‘dead-ending’ in a scene, it could very well be because another emotion didn’t appear to either resolve tension in your scene or add more tension into it.

The Crushing Weight of Too Many Committments

Things going on:

8 credits of Graduate coursework requiring about 45 pages of writing and 2000 pages of reading over the next 8 weeks.

Teaching, Rehearsing for Brody (2 nights a week).

Performing and Rehearsing with “The Feast”.

Rehearsing weekly with 2 other friends for a new project.

My grad assisting for a class on Global Environmental Change (about 20 hours a week).

Trying to complete revisions on my Thesis proposal to my advisor’s satisfaction by the end of the term.

Completing the Human Subjects Review packets for my ethnographic field study of improv audiences for the fall.

Polishing a proposal for Intel for an anthropological study of online daters.

Teaching improv to ‘at-risk’ middle schoolers once a week.

The good news in all of this is that this is my last term of coursework for my M.A. in the Anthropology of Improv Theater.  After my field study in the fall, I’ll write and defend my thesis, and hopefully I’ll pull it off and get this damn degree finished.  Then I can get a job where I won’t have to do any homework.  Oh, how lovely that will be again.

Middle School Improv

My week at Alki Middle School was a blur.  I had 30 6th, 7th, and 8th graders for 47 minutes a day for 5 days.  It was a mad dash to impart some basics while providing plenty of opportunity for practical and active involvement from the students.

They had some great success with this silent emotions exercise that I like to do.  It was surprising some of the things these kids would bring out.  One kid played Hannibal Lechter in a scene.  That was surprising to me.  He ended up being a Lechter who was trying to reform, but he would nibble on pieces of himself.  His dinosaur friend was trying to help him through a rough part in his twelve step cannibals anonymous program.

It was amazing that these kids were oftentimes naturally drawn to do really good environment work, and they were champs at taking risks and refining things rapidly on the fly.  That’s when I started to realize that the short attention span often meant that they ‘got it’ but were bored waiting to ‘do it’.  The flip side was that they often had violent imaginations and were prone to power struggles.  I had to give a little speech on finding the ‘love’ in scenes and how it’s boring for the audience to watch violence (not to mention how people won’t want to play with you if that’s what you’re about).

I also loved working with my friend Abby whose students these were.  We need more improv training in American schools.  I want to know more about how the Canadian Improv Games are structured and administered.  I’d love to do the same in the US.