How to know if you’ve been taught improv by an idiot:
How to know if you’ve been taught improv by an idiot:
1. You were told that ANYONE can be an improviser.
- It is
true that Improv is a remarkably accessible craft. But like any other art-form, there is a
great spectrum of aptitude. Improvising in life, or playing improv games in drama class is one thing, but being an
Improviser requires a balance of learned skill and an innate sensibility
that cannot, even with years and years of dedicated practice for some, be
manufactured.
2. You were taught to be completely free of thought at all
times.
- Writing
no script, making no plan, forcing no previously conceived notion, YES.
Being a constantly empty shell, floating in the ether of nothingness,
NO. To do the work of allowing the
improvisation to develop organically one must be engaged, physically,
emotionally and yes, intellectually. Learning to be relaxed in the state
of not knowing is essential, but this skill is nothing like apathy,
nothing like vacancy. Rather, it is
alive with relaxed readiness, listening with your whole body, awareness of
the improvisation that is unfolding, moment by moment.
3. You were told to be funny.
- I
ought to smack the person who told you this. Firstly, the pressure of that
expectation could un-funny anyone.
Secondly, the expectation that improvisation is always, or should
always be funny, is incredibly limiting. Thirdly, laughter is a symptom of
improvisation and not its designing feature. The navigation of spontaneous
creative cooperation is inherently imperfect. It is from those moments of imperfection
and how we pilot them that funny occurs.
Your audience laughs because they identify and because they can see
you’re at constant risk of falling from the tightrope wire, when you
almost do, and then don’t they laugh with relief. They laugh because the content you
create is honest. They laugh
because its funny, not because YOU are funny. If that were so they’d be laughing AT
you, and that is entirely less satisfying for everyone involved.
4. You were taught to NEVER ask questions and NEVER to say
“no”.
- How
boring. It’s important to know the difference between stalling a scene
with a refusal to know or assume anything, (thus making yourself
invulnerable and hanging your scene partner out to dry), and allowing your
character to ask questions that occur to them naturally, humanly. People ask questions. A scene that works to avoid them is
working too hard. Questions come, they are answered and we move forward.
- Here
is an example from one of my classes: Two students are executing a scene,
and I mean executing as in murdering it. One student is driving the scene,
working hard to do so, forcing and pushing the other student along and the
second students is wilting, hardly contributing at all. I stop the scene and ask student 2
what’s going on here. Student 2
replies that he couldn’t understand what student 1 was saying half the
time and was wholly uncertain how to respond. “Why didn’t you ask him to repeat
himself?” Student 2 looks confused, “But I am not supposed to ask any
questions.” “Oh.” I say, “I see why
you struggled there. But you were
in character right? And your character couldn’t hear what the other
character said, right? So, what if
your character asked, in your character’s voice, “what did you just
say?” What is the harm in
that?” The students thinks for a
moment and says, finally, “Oh so, if I don’t know something, like my
character wouldn’t know it probably, and then its okay to ask?” We then addressed recognizing when it’s
important to assume information and when your character reasonably, honestly
needs to inquire.
- And
the same goes for saying “no”. Not
just the word “no”, but when your character simply would not accept the
offer. If it’s been established
that your character dislikes coffee, and another character offers you
some, it does no harm to ask for something else, to remind them of your
preferences or simply to accept the coffee and then put the full cup down
when the other character turns away.
In fact it improves the improvisation, making it more dynamic, giving
it subtext. I strongly believe that
self endowments are as essential as gifted endowments and that is is the
balance of the two that create the most satisfying work.
5. You were told to be more like Jimmy Falon.
- Who is
this idiot teacher who said this? I can’t even address this without turning
into a fire-breathing dragon.
6. If you’re a woman, you were told to play men more. If you’re a man you were told to play more
women.
- Well
hello there sexism. Often when
people are told to embody the opposite sex it has more to do with
diversifying there cache of characters than anything else. I love to see my students being
comfortable with gender swapping, but I would never recommend it. There is limitless diversity of
characters within each gender. When
genders are swapped, its often for the wrong reasons. For example, a woman
wants to play a high status military officer, so she makes herself a
man. Or a man wants to play a
giggly secretary, so he makes himself a woman. I suggest that this limits us and
perpetuates gender stereotypes. I encourage my students to explore the
diversity in the gender with which they self identify; only playing
opposite their gender when it is necessary to the improvisation.
7. You were told that improv is for actors who don’t care
anymore.
- I
heard this is class once. The
student who said it had heard it from a former improve teacher. That teacher had said it in a derogatory
way. But this student, after three
months in classes with me said this, “He wasn’t wrong in the statement but
how he said it. He is right that we
don’t care, we don’t care about our egos, or who owns which idea. We don’t care about perfection, or
completion, of set design, or furniture.
We are free from that. We
are actors without limits.” This
statement delighted me beyond reason and I felt like I had done my job.
8. You were told that improv is a just warm up for actors.
- Over
the years I have had the pleasure of working with both improvisers and
scripted actors quite a lot. It has
been my experience that the strongest performers are both actors and
improvisers always. Some actors are
more comfortable with a script, and some improvisers are terrified of
memorization and taking outside direction.
But an improviser who does not see herself as an actor does not
fully embrace the power of what she is doing, she doesn’t respect it. She struggles to commit to characters,
is disconnected from her character perspective and experience. This improviser is prone to “playing”
herself. An actor without
improvisation skills is inflexible, recites lines because it’s their turn
rather then their response. He
struggles to listen with his whole body.
He is stiff and put visibly off balance with things don’t go
exactly to plan. This actor takes
himself very seriously and often finds himself in battle with his
ego. In my beautifully imperfect
dream world, all actors study improvisation as a performance craft married
to scripted theater and all improvisers willingly and gratefully see
themselves as the actors that they are.
9. You were taught to point out “mistakes” and openly tease
other performers to get a good laugh.
- The
only person who truly likes this is the person doing it. The audience may laugh, but they are
laughing AT someone’s misfortune or because they are uncomfortable. This kind of laughter is cheap and disenchanting. I understand allowing your character to
see that the soup bowl your partner is eating from is abnormally large and
commenting on it, but I only condone this if the comment is made through a
character voice and perspective. In
my opinion improviser who does this while playing themselves, or breaks
character to do it is being selfish. I understand there are whole schools
of thought based on this kind of crap. And some people do it very, very
well. But I argue, it doesn’t feel
good and it cheapens improvisation, devolves in into a gimmicky gluttonous
game. And it takes away from the
beauty of imperfection. Each one of
our “mistakes” is an opportunity to go somewhere, see something that we
wouldn’t have seen or done without it.
I teach my students to honor “mistakes” as tiny miracles, allow
them to blossom into something else.
Yes see the “misstep”, yes use it, but use it for the good of the
improvisation and not the ego.
10. You were taught that laughter is the strongest evidence
of your success.
- An
audience’s laughter can feel like the most remarkable gift in the
world. It’s totally understandable
that improvisers love it. I love
it. But if we’re taught that
laughter is the be all and end all of our success, we limit ourselves to
the quest for it. Thus we are
routinely denied the full spectrum of emotional connection. I would trade in a good laugh from an
audience for a gasp or an intensity full silence any day. These reactions
are evidence of good, strong storytelling and good, strong acting. I believe improvisers striving to tell
strong stories and to fully embody the improvisation at hand will garner
the full emotional gamut.
11. You were taught RULES.
- There
are no rules. There are gems of
wisdom acquired from experience, tricks and techniques, but there are no
hard and fast rules. Or rather,
there shouldn’t be. In teaching beginners, many teachers find similar
strategies to encourage letting go, (yes), advancing and enhancing
(and). We teach to avoid blocking. We teach relaxed readiness. But a teacher who teaches rules creates
an improviser who plays by them.
Rules cause expectations and expectations lead to disappointment.
In the case of an unfolding improvisation, rules, expectations and
disappointment can be toxic and even deadly. (No, no, the improviser won’t
die! They may feel like their
dying, but it is the improvisation itself that will suffer and yes, it may
just go right ahead and die a terrible painful death).
12. You were taught to focus completely on the support of
the other player.
- You
were probably taught this so resolutely that you do it often at the at the
expense of all your inspirations and impulses. Unless you’re telepathic there
is no way you can ever know for certain what is happening in the mind of
other players. Everyone on stage
may interpret the improvisation differently. Get out of their head and
into the room with the creation. It
doesn’t exist inside them. It
doesn’t exist inside you. It’s out
here, being built presently. If
your focus is on trying to decode the unbreakable mind of a creative
performer, you’re going to miss out on the awesome thing you could be
making together.
13. You were taught to give the audience what they want.
- This
is especially disappointing when an audience isn’t yet well versed in
improv. If they come in thinking
they’re going to get a laugh a minute stand up routine with many comedians
on stage at once, playing a game or saying butt a lot, just like they saw
on TV, wouldn’t it be a shame to give them what they think they want? So they paid for a show? Give it to
them. Give them a wonderful show
wrought with dynamic performances. They paid you because you are the performer,
you are the professional, and you are the communicator, so communicate
YOUR message. What do you want to
show them? What do you want to
share? If you want to create a
stand-up heavy butt butt show, for heavens sake do that. But never sacrifice the infinite
adventure of your message to create what you believe an audience
desires. If you connect with them
emotionally, infuse them with engaging ideas, your ideas, your characters
ideas, create stories they can identify with or stories that inspire them,
they will thank you and they’ll come back to see YOU again.
4 comments:
These are some really good insights.
I can tell they are wrought from lots of playing and an innate sense of theater.
My favorite line from this entry is #2.
"Rather, it is alive with relaxed readiness, listening with your whole body, awareness of the improvisation that is unfolding, moment by moment."
Spolin calls this "no motion" i.e., being in the eye of the storm, action at a simmer, in a state rest and readiness to act.
What are your thoughts on Spolin Improv and on sidecoaching?
Gary, I recently accompanied Sparky and Bob in New Orleans to explore Spolin more intensively. Raised by actors, I was exposed early to Spolin genius, but never properly trained in her work. I use it with regularity with my students because I believe it develops their improvisational integrity. But I am no Spolin expert. However, the time I spent with the World Spolin Network delighted and inspired me.
Forgive me, I didn't answer your question about side-coaching. I believe there is a place for it and I use it frequently, but not as the rule. My Spolin trained comrades use side coaching with much more regularity than I do. And when done well I find it fascinatingly useful, a powerful tool. The issue I take with it, if I take any issue at all, is that when it's done poorly or over used in such a way that the improviser becomes stylized in the image of their coach. By that I mean they learn to engage in the scene work in a manor that is not innately their own. Or they begin to rely heavily upon side coaching. So, I use it carefully as i see it is needed or when engaging in a Spolin exercise that requires it exclusively.
Glad I never taught or learned any of that. ;)
The last one, "give an audience what they want" however, is sometimes said as a translation of Keith Johnstone's "be obvious". When it is used that way, it is very true. Nothing is more disappointing when a scene screams for something to happen, and an improviser thinks that is too obvious and tries to be original. (Okay this is very black & white, reality is more complex, but you get my drift.)
In side coaching, BTW, I find the perfect way to enhance what is innately the player's own. By recognizing it, and not letting it slip away, but enlarge it or letting them keep on doing it. Often, they do not recognize the brilliance of their instincts, nor how great it would be if they would keep on doing it or enlarging it. By side coaching them right at the moment when they let go of their uniqueness (what most players ventually do, because they want to play the way others play, and thius do not recognize their own unique qualities), you can gain so much. (But I agree completely: it must be done well.)
Thanks & Cheers!
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