People who own improv theatres, have taught improv for over 25 years and who have failed (only to succeed later) describe some of my guests on the David is Curious podcast.
Those are just some of my guests! I’ve also done episodes with Steve Green, Vanja Sekic, Paul Quinn and Stu Hughes. I have more great guests lined up! My goal with the podcast is to act as a space where I can casually chat with people I have been wanting to talk to. There are thousands of people I want to talk to – I just need to find the time!
No. First of all, I’m slow to anger in general. How slow are you, Barry?
My friends, on multiple occasions, have been giddy to see self-proclaimed ‘riled up Barry’ which usually just means I’ve been slightly assertive in an email.
When we play ‘Emotional Scales’ as an exercise (when you walk around the room, receive an emotion to play, and then have to play that emotion at different levels of intensity, often 0 (neutral) to 10 (the most emotional emotion ever emoted)), anger is by far the hardest to play.
I thought about how to answer this question for a good week or so.
This actually goes back all the way to when I first started taking improv classes. My wife, Kristen, had been taking classes for about two years, and she and her friends had been cajoling me to try it for just about as long. I was working at a local (Baltimore, MD, USA) startup at the time, near the peak of my struggles with perfectionism, workaholism, and anxiety, and I finally took the leap just to force myself to leave the office so as not to miss class.
Because (at least at the time) I was really just using improv as a tool to try to wrestle some balance into my life, I was able to have a really detached attitude towards it. On the way to class I would repeat to myself ‘this doesn’t matter, just go have fun’ – if I was driving I’d say it out loud, but not if I was riding the bus. I don’t know how I knew that’s what I needed, but it really allowed me to embrace the struggles and failures and missteps in improv – not just at the beginning, but to this day. Through classes, indie teams, auditions, and more I’ve been lucky to hold on to that attitude, so no, I don’t ever get angry at improv, and I’m very thankful for that.
When you say “this doesn’t matter” what do you mean? What is “this?”
‘This’ in the context of that story was the idea of ‘being good at’ improv; I was really working to let go of the need to be successful at it. There are so many sources of pressure in the improv ecosystem – auditions, stage time, social proof, personal pride. This mantra helped me resist some of those pressures in my first months and years in improv, which ironically helped me grow that much more quickly as a performer. It’s really stuck with me as a crucial part of building an improv community – how can we keep those pressures at bay?
QUESTION #2: You get a 2 million dollar budget from Netflix to do a short series on improv. What do you do? We assemble a diverse crew of filmmakers who have never worked with one another before, and we take them on a documentary tour of some of the world’s best applied improv practitioners. Each episode would highlight three things:
The people using improv to change the world, and their personal stories.
The people and populations that applied improv can support.
An underlying concept of improvisation related to the above,
There are plenty of people working really hard on elevating the art form that is improv, and to be honest I don’t know that I come close to the top tiers of that work – I’m happy to see it done and thrilled when I catch a bit of it myself. I do feel like I have something unique to say about improv as a teaching tool, and the impact teaching and learning the fundamental skills of improv can have on the world around us.
The world needs to see how improv can support language learners, seniors struggling with cognitive function, their caretakers, non-profit teams, teenagers navigating a technology-first world, incarcerated people, families, and the list could go on forever. I don’t think we can raise the profile of improv solely through great art – music, dance, and storytelling are part of our lives more because we can all do those things, and we know the impact that participating directly in these arts has on our psyche, our relationships, and our community. Improv can do that, maybe best of all.
Plus as a bonus, the last episode of the series would have to be the filmmakers learning improv themselves as they work on the rest of the show!
Screws: playing with Baltimore indie team Important Screws at a Highwire Improv show at Waverly Brewing Company.
QUESTION #3 (submitted by last person interviewed): If you could have any improv superpower, what would it be? And why?
Bit answers:
Double it and give it to the next person.
Teleport the chairs after a scene ends.
Always be able to successfully record the video and audio of an improv show.
Actually be able to remember scenes when recounting them after a set.
Perform an entertaining pattern game for 25 minutes.
This is such a hard question to answer! So many options end up taking away something amazing from improv – I don’t want to stop time, read minds, teleport, or even wipe away the fear! I don’t want to be gifted with presence, or wit, or physicality, or vocal range (even though my breadth of accents runs from Baltimore City to the border of Maryland, at best). I want to be better at support, but I don’t want to make improv too easy for anyone else either!
I’ve landed on this; to be able to convince anyone to give improv a chance. It took me two years, and in many other lives it wouldn’t have happened or I would have given it up after my first class. I’m lucky that I gave it a chance. Any time I run an introductory improv workshop my goal is simply to convince people that improvis magic, and it’s magic they can do.
You say “Always be able to successfully record the video and audio of an improv show.” I know it’s a bit but, ARGH! This is a thing isn’t it?
Yes! I can’t tell you how many board meetings we’ve discussed what equipment to buy and how to reliably get footage! I’m one of those folks that’s of the opinion that recorded improv can be a great product!
One of our biggest goals has been to increase access to improv – we’ve been able to do that by bringing our in-person shows to a bunch of different venues and one logical extension of that is to offer high quality recorded shows to the community, especially for folks who can’t access our in-person shows for one reason or another.
Beans: doing a bit (shout out Kristen McKenzie, creator of the Baltimore-area Bit Show) as Dr. Adzuki, who believes all you need to solve any problem, is beans.
I am so enthralled with the massive impact Highwire Improv has had on the improv globe. They have been leaders with regards to Code of Conduct, rising out of community and believing you can do something new. There are lots of people in the improv world who are followers – but the aim of improv training is believing you are both a leader and a follower. Barry is a brilliant human. And his efforts in being both a leader and follower (in the community) are an inspiration to me.
NOTE: starting next month we’ll start to announce opportunities and projects via this website. Subscribe to get find out before anyone else does.
QUESTION #1: What is the best way to determine someone is a person you would like to perform in an improv show with?
Call me crazy, but I like to perform with someone who is awake. Unconscious performers are almost impossible to do a scene with. (But still possible).
All jokes aside, I guess the best way is to watch someone perform onstage. But you don’t know if you’re going to have chemistry with someone until you actually perform with them. It’s fun to improvise with friends that you have a good rapport with, because there’s a shorthand and also a sense of trust. You also know how to bring out the best in your partner and vice versa. But performing with a stranger or someone you’re not very familiar with can also be thrilling. It can keep you on your toes and make you more alert. They can surprise you and bring out new dimensions of your improvising. For example, they might have a contrasting performance style (more physical or more verbal) that makes the scene more dynamic. Ultimately, trust is the most important thing onstage because it gives you the freedom to play.
QUESTION #2: Describe the process of improv in 4 steps. (each step can be multiple words or images or whatever)
That depends on whether you are talking about short form or long form improv. They both have overlapping principles like listening, treating mistakes like a gift and “yes and-ing” your scene partner.
Short form is basically games using suggestions from the audience and sometimes audience participation onstage.
The host will explain the rules of the game to the audience and the performers
The host or performers might get suggestions from the audience e.g. a word to start the scene or a location
The improvisers will play the scene or exercise, adhering to the rules e.g. only speaking dialogue in the form of a question.
The game will usually end when the host decides – usually after the performers have achieved the aim of the scene e.g. using all the letters of alphabet in their dialogue. Or when it reaches a natural conclusion or funny peak.
Long form improv is longer improvised scenes (narrative based) – with loads of different formats. The scene or scenes are usually inspired by a word from the audience or an opening exercise from the improvisers to help them pull ideas, but can start organically.
These are some of the basic principles to make a scene successful:
1. Yes, And!
Simply put, agree to the premise the first performer has offered in their first line of dialogue. Then add to that premise. It’s about making a choice and then building on that choice. Agreeing with what someone has endowed your character with. Yes = agreeing. And = building – adding to the line.
2. Try to establish the “Who, What, Where” in the first 3 lines of dialogue.
The order doesn’t matter, and it doesn’t matter if the dialogue is a bit clunky, as long as you are specific. The “Who” is who the characters are to each other, their relationship e.g. husband and wife or co-workers. The “What” is literally what activity they are doing e.g. mowing their lawn, stealing office supplies. There is a differentiation between what they’re literally doing (space work) and what the scene is about (what drives the scene), which will become apparent later on. And the “Where” is the location. Establishing a specific location that can fit onstage makes it easier for other performers to enter the scene. For example, a teacher’s lounge or a cafeteria is more specific than a high school.
3. Identifying the “interesting/unusual thing” or “game of the scene”.
During the scene the improvisers will discover something unusual that sticks out and then turn that into a “pattern” or “game of the scene”. This could be identifying an unusual behaviour of a character. The game of the scene could also be physical. When the ‘shiny thing’ presents itself (what’s interesting about the scene) the improvisers will do more of that. Game is the engine driving a scene.
4. Heighten & Explore
This is where the improvisers “mine” the game of the scene and heighten & explore any emotions or ideas. Exploring the game of the scene is about figuring out why the unusual behaviour is happening. Hopefully by heightening the stakes and exploring the reasons for any usual behaviour, you will discover why the characters are behaving in a certain way.
This is a fantastic explanation. It simplifies it and explains the basics, better than most books I’ve read on it! With this in mind, why do you keep doing improv? What stops it from being formulaic or boring?
I love that improv forces you to be fully in the present moment. That immediacy and spontaneity is built into the DNA of the art form and stops it from being monotonous. Live theatre is always unpredictable. You never know what the audience will find funny and respond to, and you don’t know what your scene partner will say or do. Even if you do the same format show after show – it will always turn out different. You can’t guarantee having a good show – but that makes the good shows even more rewarding.
When you are fully engaged with what is going on onstage it’s energising and electric. Your body and mind are activated and on high alert – it’s almost like a fight or flight response. That heightened sense of listening – forces your brain to be like a metal detector – picking up on what “shiny things” you need to extract and build on for the scene. It’s exciting and challenging for the mind and body.
I feel super lucky that I’ve gotten to be a part of some really great improv teams including Special Delivery and Amorphous Horse. I love performing with my hilarious friends. We keep each other on our toes! And if we can make each other laugh we know we’re onto something good!
And of course, hearing that laughter from the audience is always contagious. Without getting too corny, when you are laughing and having fun – and making others laugh – does it get any better than that?
QUESTION #3 (submitted by last person interviewed): What do you wish would change in the improv art form or the improv community? And why?
I hope that in the future there continues to be more diversity on and off stage. More opportunities for people of colour, especially women of colour, and LGBTQ+ performers.
Why? Because I think representation matters. Improv, like other art forms, should represent the world around us and not just one demographic. Having performers from different backgrounds will only make the improv community richer and funnier.
I agree. So much. A lot of my efforts go towards this exact goal. Why do you think improv has become so dominated by one (or a few) perspectives? Why does an art form based in “yes and” and supporting your partner seem to lack this representation?
I think there are multiple reasons for lack of representation in Improv. And it’s not unique to Improv theatre – it’s a problem in a lot of creative industries.
Firstly, modern-day Improv is a relatively new art form (less than a hundred years give or take). Versus the patriarchy and systemic racism that has been going on for thousands of years.
I think that privilege goes beyond just time and money. I think that women, POC and other underrepresented communities need to feel safe. Safe to travel to and from comedy shows. Safe to share their perspectives and life experiences onstage. Small changes as well as big ones are important. Just changing how you treat your fellow performers onstage e.g. not cutting off a woman mid-sentence.
I think that we are moving slowly in the right direction. Perhaps we can continue to ask – who is running improv theatres? Who is casting shows? And is outreach performative rather than substantive? And making sure that on a larger scale – casting directors and tv/film producers fund projects and cast performers from different backgrounds. I think that it can be harder to start improv when you don’t see any comedians or actors that look like you represented onscreen and on stage. And of course, more arts funding and art programs in schools is integral.
I met Alexia at a Crash Course which was a part of Do The Right Scene. In the exercises we did together I could tell she was super experienced – she made some intense moves. It was so neat to see such a skillful improviser operate in your own scene! If you get a chance to take a class with her, do it! You are doing yourself a favor.
If you want to get early access to these interviews and information such as upcoming workshops or improv projects, subscribe – it’s free!
I’ve curated a list donation links for improv groups and companies. This global improv community benefits when we give-and-take in a cycle of supporting one another.
The goal is to have more sustainable improv projects and communities, but sometimes that process needs a little boost. It is helpful to donate big amounts or even small amounts – like the prices of a coffee!
Photo Credits. Black and White Photo: Dean Ben Arye, November 2022, Improv Fest Ireland
QUESTION #1: Is improv a creation or do we use it to create?
I think it can be both. Maybe it depends on if you are a naturally creative person and then it’s another tool that you use to share your gifts. Or maybe if you’re a more analytical person, improv is the creation for you. I don’t know if that really answered the question! HA!
You say “improv is the creation …” What do you mean by that?
HA! I am not exactly sure. Maybe the end product or end goal vs the steps, tools and actions that take you there.
QUESTION #2: When you perform with people you have never met (like in a jam or mash-up team) what fears do you have? What things do you get excited about?
So many fears!!! First, I’m definitely an introverted extrovert so just the idea of people/groups can be a bit overwhelming for me. I have to mentally prepare beforehand to engage, especially when it’s new people. I’d much rather sit back and take my time either observing from the audience or the back line before jumping into play. However, I think folks have an expectation of me and what I bring to a scene so that pushes me to get out there sooner. But that also brings extra pressure and more anxiety. Will I disappoint? Will I blend in? Will I be on stage too much or not enough? Will I? Will I? Will I? … the list goes on. Then, because of all of the questions, I get stuck in my head and have to shut the voices down and just do what I love and remember to enjoy myself. I saw this meme the other day and I feel like this is a bit like what is happening in my mind when I am performing.
Now that being said, I love meeting new people and playing with new people. Each person brings their experience, their improv education and their world onto the stage and I learn so much from every person as I watch and play. I want to be in the moment, I want to be authentic and I want to make others feel welcomed and cherished. I want to meet them where they are on their improv journey and be the kind of scene partner that makes them thrive. That’s what gets me excited!
QUESTION #3: What was the hardest lesson you learned? And what helped you learn it?
Oh, good question. The hardest lesson I learned is no matter what your intention, someone may see it or take what you say another way. This can be onstage, offstage or both.
Early on in improv, I think I often got frustrated when my ideas got interpreted another way. I would think they got it wrong and keep trying to clarify. I wasn’t giving the grace that their interpretation deserved or understanding that that was a gift and moving in that direction would perhaps be even more fun to play. Once I opened myself up to this, I began to grow as a player and partner.
I think that’s something that carries over to life as well. Recently, I fully realized that I may be the villain in someone’s life without knowing it or intending to be that force. The way I see the world isn’t the way everyone else does and those differences can unite us, define us and connect us. I also had to learn to be at peace with that. And that was SUPER hard for me because I overanalyze everything!
When I read this, I had to sit with it for a little while. I think this is something I need to learn. This sounds like a tough lesson. First of all, how did you see evidence of it? And then what do you recommend for others who may be dealing with these feelings (like me!)?
It’s a simple as understanding how your point of view (in life or in a scene) doesn’t match up with the person you’re talking with. Just by not being on the same page, your thoughts, opinions and wording can make you the person that stands between them and what they want. Most of the time it’s just being an obstacle but depending on the strength of the want or need, you become the villain. Maybe I need to save money so I clip many coupons and take them to the grocery. That is an important need for my character. For the cashier who has to process the transaction, you’re slowing down their day, making more work and now you’re the villain to them. I’m not sure if it all makes sense but those are my thoughts. I think in order to make changes not to be a villain, you just need to be more aware of how your actions are impacting others. But remember, even if you make changes – that doesn’t mean it changes their opinion of you. Own what you can.
Photo credits. Color photo; Brian Twitty, September 2019, Queen City Comedy Festival
I have been blessed to cross paths with Karla. She is a wise confidant, a friend, and a powerful improviser. Her workshops are treasure chests of improv gems. She overflows with value. There have been times when Karla inspires me to keep moving forward. Karla Dingle drove online improv during the improv, and continues to produce online classes and shows. I am so impressed by Karla.
QUESTION #1: Hypothetical. You have unlimited budget and space constraints. You are going to design a Lego set. This lego set is “Andel’s perfect improv space.” What comes in the set?
A cafe with wall of books and nooks connecting a large black box-like space for rehearsal and shows with a row of restrooms (like full wall of them) to a theater with cabaret seating, raised stage with ramps and stairs and cool backstage and exposed lighting rig that you can walk on, PIANOS IN EVERY ROOM, big green room with a WALL OF MIRRORS! FULL LENGTH! MORE TOILETS! Access to all seating from the back of space. Cool soundproofing between each space. Out the side of the theater is an enclosed but open garden area with fun weird plants, a box with greens and flowers, ICE CREAM STATION, POPCORN STATION, TEA AND COFFEE STATION, SOUP STATION. A large lobby that connects all these spaces with lots of fun “chairs” and seating” more MORE RESTROOMS, cool tables, booths. An elevator (and maybe also a rocket?) and spiral staircase up to the rooftop terrace. Big table up there with a fire pit in the center, castle turret on one corner for hanging out, maybe to give notes or chill, a catapult, trees.
But of course, you can put it together however your heart desires. Plenty of extra pieces. Piles of all different colors, shapes and sizes. LOTS of those clear pieces that look like jewels. LOTS of characters with MANY outfits. And like cats and robots. LOTS OF OPTIONS for this perfect playground with spaces that feel both open and intimate. Places to move and places to recharge. And at least one Bird or Dragon that is larger than the space itself. See super profesh doodle inspiration:)
You mention a space that is “both open and intimate.” That is interesting. I agree. I like the intimacy of improv (which is why I don’t mind performing in small theatres for small audiences – in fact, I kind of prefer it). Is “open” and “intimate” a contradiction? Can intimacy be public?
Oh I think all true things are contradictions really. HAha.
Like love, intimacy is a nuanced thing. There are many different types and flavors and it will mean different things to different people and our relationship to it will change depending on those different contexts. As will what we need to feel or create it.
Regarding space I think there are ways to build spaces(physical or artistic) where intimacy is more possible(if not probable.) Each space holds an energy, each configuration offers options. There is power in design. And power in acknowledgement.
I taught a 2 day workshop in Padova that on the first day was in a gymnasium-like space and the second was in this opulent, reverent museum room. The same group of people walked into each space very differently, not intentionally but naturally, organically. When they began warming up the space shaped the tone of the warm ups, the style of their play, the volume of their voices and the speed of their movement. Space has the ability to shape experience and our awareness and curiosity of it gives us a bit more power when we can’t control the space and something to think about when we can.
I remember when I toured with Second City we would do shows for 1000’s of people. The same sketch show we would do in our home theater which was 300. There’s a polish there but there’s also, because it is comedy, me reaching through the lights to you and saying let’s have an experience together and staying sensitive to your experience. Not necessarily letting it change my course but allowing it to exist on the same plane and affect me. There’s a different type of intimacy doing a show in a small space where you can look into the audience’s eyes. But to create intimacy in that space asks for higher vulnerability because we are not protected by the lights and the group. Sometimes I wonder if that cues us to put up more of a protective wall if we’re not careful. Because it FEELS more intimate. More potentially threatening. How do we build that trust? How do we remain open in that intimacy without requiring it from ourselves or anyone else?
For me good theater (which quite often is public) builds intimacy. A connection. A conversation. That’s the skill or magic of it, right? Music does that too. Oh, live music! Someone, a stranger, onstage singing a song that makes you feel somehow uniquely seen. Like they are reaching out to you and only you. THEY KNOW YOUR SOUL. You leave your heart open, your eyes wider. Intimacy can be straight forward or abstract, literal, shared. The space can shape the experience and so too can the art or artist.
There is a true intimacy in play, especially as adults. It is such an intimate act to open yourself up and create together and discover that type of connection. So we look to space, context setting, relationship, adaptability and autonomy. In that sense it is less powerful, less intimate for us to bring a game and say “play this.” That is fun but that is different. That is clarity of rules which is very comforting. But the kind of play where we don’t know, where we have agreed to live in the unknown together and we are creating it together, where we *might* make a mistake or be surprised and the moment after the mistake or the surprise, the discovery we didn’t intend on making becomes the agreement. The gut laugh. The pull into presence because we all must decide in that moment what happens next. That is intimate work. To keep taking risks and also stay sensitive.
I think** that’s our job. Or rather that’s what I see as mine.
What is happening here. Now. between US. That will never exist again?! What do we create together that no one else can? When I ask myself what makes improvisation so special I think it lies there for me, in the fact that we get to relate to what is actually happening, a shared experience through different perspectives. This. Now. Us. Here. Never again. Clearly transitory like so many things are but don’t seem. I love that.
When I teach(and honestly I’m reevaluating some of that right now) there are two realms I want to play in: absolutely raw and honest(not dramatic, just real) and mischievous to the point of nonsense. When in doubt: simplify, when in joy: disrupt.
Theater is always a conversation. And conversations generally require more listening than talking. Open and intimate go hand in hand then, I think?
This makes me want to talk to you more. I want to like, do an improv scene then talk to you about it.
Oh yes! That would be so cool.It’d be cool to do 3 “scenes/pieces” with 3 different “Intentions” or “styles” or something and then talk about them. Then disconnect and process(write) and retouch base on any additional thoughts/takeaways/challenges/insights etc. Like science! Haha. Yes yes yes.
QUESTION #2: What does it mean to “know” something – as a character? Like your character “knows” something different than you as the player. What does “knowing” feel/look/act like in improv?
Such an interesting question. I’m not even sure I know what it is to know something as myself.
Knowing is such a strong, steady thing. I don’t know if I play in the world of knowing,
generally. Quite often my characters are curious about the same things I’m curious about. But if I choose or am gifted the ability to KNOW something different then exploring that in relation to my partners and the audience feels fun. Why do I know it? How do I know it? What does it mean that I know it? What does it matter in THIS situation? Or does it? Is it the main dish, side or seasoning of my character and this scene?
Rumination on a specific:
I’m trying to think of something I, Anděl, KNOW. I know my feet are cold right now. I know it because I feel it. Because they have been warm before and I am comparing it to that. My body moves differently and I am slightly distracted. I am a coffeeshop meant to be working and while it isn’t REALLY hindering my ability, it is giving me a reason why I could abandon my work and procrastinate. If I leave and go home my feet will be warm. This knowing looks like nothing to anyone else. Not a single person here has noticed this torturous knowledge I have. At most they may see my legs bobbing. But I don’t think they would KNOW why. Or care. If it was busier or I was with someone I knew they might see I was agitated. If, like me, they are quite sensitive, the constant bobbing of my legs might distract or enrage them. They may not be able to continue their work or conversation. If they were family or a very good friend they might feel comfortable asking me to stop. Which I would most likely do if it was a friend and most likely overreact to if it was a family member. As the scene progressed I might be quite proud of myself for BATTLING my physical DISCOMFORT and checking something off my to do list. It might start giving me a false sense of unearned confidence. I might start nodding to myself. Nodding and Bobbing. Unless I was having a rough day when my cold feet would be a clear sign that all is lost. They may become a metaphor. It’s more a question of what we find important and what we choose (or are forced) to focus on. Next time I will carry socks in my bag.
Is there anything that would make me question this KNOWLEDGE? No. How important is this KNOWING to ME as a PERSON or a CHARACTER? In this moment because I’m not only feeling it but ruminating on it, it is singularly important but not the only thing that is true about me. I am also drinking coffee and iced water(which I shouldn’t be doing my-god-do-I-LOVE-TO-FREEZE?!) I have not showered and I am occasionally stretching my neck as I sit and bob. While KNOWING my feet are cold I’m also exploring what it means to be a person or a character, I am caring deeply about improvisation and I am questioning the idea of knowledge while also being a little annoyed by my seeming lack of ability to answer a simple question directly and succinctly. I am also worried that I completely misunderstood the question.
SECOND BEAT
If given a second scene in a similar context but later, I might be wearing socks. I would realize my legs bob just as much in the socks I am now wearing under my sandals. It was not the cold at all. HUh. I was so sure. A new question might be posited and I might react quite differently, as might a character. The same question might be posited and I might have quite a different or new take on it. It might be build directly on this first one or be a completely different exploration through my eyes as I am an indecisive person who is also curious and quite confidence.
I might, given a second chance to answer, try to say something more solid, simple and meaningful. Oooh and I might nail it. And my life would be changed. And your life would be changed. Or I might make a fool of myself and we might laugh at how lovely and human it is to want to be right and important and change lives. I might miss the profound and get a laugh instead. Or perhaps I would bore you.
In relation:
If my character knows something I didn’t know the fun is discovering and then noticing. To treat each thing like a delicious secret. A knowing, as belief: my character has a belief/ knowledge I don’t hold because they have lived a life I haven’t lived and had experiences I haven’t experienced. The way it feels, looks or makes me act is probably dependent on how that gift was given or discovered(like did I make that choice or was it given by a partner or audience?) as well as its relation to the suggestion, audience, partner, context and form. That thing may be something to hold onto or might be something fluid(like emotion). If it has been declared as shared knowledge usually someone on stage has it and so I will take that and “if this is true, what else is true it.” Play with adding, always checking in with my partner to see if they are delighted by my creating new knowledge around this thing we now share or if it is important to them that this knowledge remains true. Then I might pull back and build in different ways so it can stay shared but I’m not being disrespectful of something they want treated with respect. It’s the alchemy of these things. You might see it, you might not.
If it’s short form, it’s probably given and I’ll commit immediately and boldly to the most fun first idea I have and figure it out. Knowing is a clarity, stated and moved on from.
Runout:
In the act of improvisation, for me, quite honestly, if I don’t know it: usually my character doesn’t. I play with emotion, energy and physicality so my knowledge will be rooted in those things and the perspective on the knowledge my character has and how it fits into whatever situation is more important than the knowledge itself.
Button:
You know nothing John Snow.
You said “… we might laugh at how lovely and human it is to want to be right and important and change lives.” Can you expand on this? Do you think most people want to be right, important and change lives?
I couldn’t say what most people want but there is something wonderfully human about when the things we most want are what are getting in our way.
I tend to take things too seriously and too personally (gift as improviser= HARD AS HUMAN.) So there is that deep want, wish, to live meaningfully and want to share knowledge or opinion and make a difference to someone. And being right feels SO good. For a while I was convinced that everyone wanted to be seen and understood. I think that is jarring to some people but I do think that’s a little true in creative spaces. We want to be seen and heard and valued. We want our lives to matter. I battle my constant need for attention and my desperate need to caretaking/keep people comfy. They are both equally strong and when in the right place, time and level: superpowers. They both get me in trouble and also drive me.
I think sometimes our humanity lies in that tension. So I don’t claim to know what everyone wants but I do know that deepest desire to be right and important and change lives is funny when paired with trying to order a sandwich and finding yourself at an existential crossroads.
At that moment when I was writing, editing and rolling over the questions I caught myself and it made me laugh as I was convincing myself there was a ‘perfect’ version of my answer. One that ticked all the boxes for me AND expressed it in a way that was connective and readable. Where the person reading it would nod, slowly stand and begin clapping as they quietly chanted “yes. Yeees. YEEEES” I mean, not literally but… kind of literally? I think we talk ourselves out of a lot of creative endeavors because of that and that’s one of the many reasons I love improvisation as an art form in and of itself and as a tool. It can disrupt that narrative and give you an opportunity to praaaactice it. Jumping in, feeling it, the moments of aftercare, the moments of joyful discovery, too. And the moments of quiet failure(and sometimes loud ones:)
It’s also why I try to keep the balance of “playing, performing, teaching and directing, learning” for myself when I can. They feed each other and keep me practicing and coming up against each challenge and each discovery sprinkled with a healthy dose of humility and perspective. It also affords me the opportunity to see it all as data and invite my critic to the table as collaborator instead of pretending she doesn’t exist or vilifying her. I can tell when I’m out of balance a lot quicker now. Buuuut. It still happens.
How human it is to reveal ourselves.
Usually accidentally.
QUESTION #3 (submitted by last person interviewed): When was the first time you realised you were an improviser? How did it feel?
*When I got a message at 11a in Los Angeles that a teacher was needed last minute for a musical improv workshop in Nottingham and at 1p I was on my way to LAX without a moment’s hesitation.
*Making my family laugh til they couldn’t breathe when I was maybe 9 or 10 by just repeating “I forgot what I was going to say” over and over and over in a silly accent.
*Sitting in the chair in Hawaii this year and looking over at my Papa in his hospice bed, catching his eye and building from a smile to a little hand dance. Sharing the spark in his eyes, following the follower and discovering connection in whole body listening. Being present, playful and unafraid.
*Showing up to a clown class I was taking, seeing only two people there, panicking, deciding to leave, running into a woman I had taken a previous class with parking her car and turning right back around to show up.
*Seeing long form improvisation for the first time on the Santa Monica pier when I was 15.
*Quarantining for 2 weeks in 2020 in the Highlands of Scotland before I entered a year of charity care work. Living in community as I learned about care work, nonprofits, neurodiversity and took daily walks to the River Ness during lockdown. Listening more than speaking. Finding the helpers.
*Moving to Chicago when I was 17. Interning for classes while working at the Gap and Potbelly’s.
*Colluding with my older sister to convince my little brother into believing she was dying and as she writhed on the ground and he cried. Discovering, with mischief in my eyes and then confiding that the only way he could save her was to pee on her. Watching his 3-year-old tears turn to a smile and her fake death turn into terror.
*Auditioning for Second City Tourco the second time in HORRIBLE period pain, doing two scenes with Jeff Griggs and feeling like a fucking rockstar, knowing I got a callback, feeling I would get hired and knowing it was because of Jeff.
*Going to Portugal to surf. Not surfing in Portugal. Getting a butterfly tattoo that immediately faded. In Portugal.
*Realizing halfway into teaching an intensive at iO this summer that I had fucked up shaping the space where the questions “Am I safe?” “Who’s in charge?” “Do you like me?” could be answered well by each individual in the class. Readjusting the approach and plan for the last 2 days in hopes of leaving them better than I found them. It was a great learning; not a fun learning.
*Flying to Maine for a 5 person 2 act improvised musical run during the omicron scare that turned into a two person one(thanks covid), my first real show shows “post” pandemic. Struggling STRUGGLING through the run and absolutely loving the two people I got to play with. I did not do a GREAT job. I did my best and I reveled in the time spent.
In each of these moments I realized or remembered or practiced being an improviser. I’ve always been a performer but I also love control and I’m an overthinker and grew up CRITICIZED and CRITICAL. Learning was not fun. I took some of that into my professional improvising and sketch work and it was when I started teaching and directing I started having a better conversation with myself as an artist and a human. When I’m improvising I am unabashedly free and ideally also present and compassionate. I carry a goofy photo of me at around 7 years old to remind myself why I teach, how to talk to myself after shows and classes and what I value and to remind me when I get off track or out of balance. I practice onstage, I practice in the classroom and rehearsal room, I practice in my life. And when I see some of those dreamy elements in my own life it feels so nice. Like I’m still learning and re-learning and practicing and failing and continuing. Breath. Begin Again.
Andel is a personal friend of mine, and as a friend she impresses me so much. She jumps at the chance to help friends, she is authentic in her interactions and she performs/teaches high quality improv. (I wonder if all of those things are interrelated?) Andel is the kind of person who makes your improv festival better by being a part of it. I can’t wait till she is back in the UK!
I’m working with Chris Mead in producing a small UK tour for Liz Allen. I am so excited.
Liz Allen was IO’s Training Center Director for 3 years, and an ensemble level teacher for 10 years. In 1999, 2000 & 2001 Liz won the Del Close Coach of the Year Award at IO, now called the Liz Allen Excellence in Teaching Award. In 2006, with Jimmy Carrane, Liz co-wrote the book Improvising Better (Heinemann) and co-created their popular Individual Assessment Workshop. Liz was honored to coach The Commune, the improv ensemble in Mike Birbiglia’s 2016 feature film Don’t Think Twice.
We’re aiming for early March – so keep your schedules open!
QUESTION #1: What things do you love about improv?
First and foremost, I love the sense of shared possibility. And, to me, both words are key here: shared and possibility.
Shared because togetherness and mutual support are what makes improv magical; what sets it apart from writing and other art-forms (which I also enjoy). In my experience, improv has an amazing power to inspire and empower through connection, it encourages kindness and humbleness. What a group can create together is more than the sum of what each member creates alone.
Possibility because, in improv, we create something where there was nothing. We jump into the unknown and create a world out of it. This can be both exciting and scary. As an attendant to one of my workshops beautifully put it: “the unknown is easy for it is everything and nothing”, it inspires us to be brave.
To me, the sense of shared possibility encapsulates a lot of what I love about improv. But the list is definitely longer: the storytelling, the fun, the emotions, the songs, the values, the connection between people (both among improvisers and with the audience), the sense of pure joy that can fill a room where improv is happening; I could go on and on.
Two improvisers that embody the generosity and bravery inherent in the sense of shared possibility are Sarah McGillion (there is no format she cannot tackle and excel at it) and Stacey Smith (everyone should watch her solo musical show Stacejam at least once in their lifetime). Both of them are amazingly generous and brave, as we all should be.
What do you think are the challenges to SHARED and POSSIBILITY? Why do we need to rehearse/train?
I believe that the biggest challenge to the mindset of shared possibility is us. Or rather: how our socio-economic system has primed us to be by valuing selfish individual success above community, and results above process.
In many ways: we are afraid of making mistakes, we are afraid of being playful, we are afraid of being too generous, we are afraid of being vulnerable, we are afraid of not being productive, we are afraid of not winning. And those are all awful constraints to have in improv (and, in life too).
At the beginning of our improv journey, we practice because we need repetitions to get out of the mindset that we have learnt is needed to “succeed” in the current world. And thus, tap into the mindset of shared possibility, being brave and generous together.
Later in the improv journey we practice because that is what it takes to grow skills, find inspiration, and strengthen connections.
We also practice because it is fun. That’s it. Because it is a toooooooon of fun.
Here is a photo from the very first scene of my very first improv show (a long-form set with a rookie ensemble). Sharing possibilities with Tom.
QUESTION #2: Are you serious about improv? Or are you playful?
I want to be both. I hope to be both.
I take improv seriously because it has an impact on people (performers and audiences) and thus it comes with a responsibility. I am serious about taking care of my scene partners and the audience, and about trying to make a positive difference wherever I am involved.
At the same time, I think playfulness is the key ingredient of improv. If you are not being playful, you are missing out big time!
An improviser that irradiates this duality of improv is the always inspiring Jay Sukow. I want to live in a world where more of us are as serious and playful about the right things as he is.
QUESTION #3: How can silence be used for maximum impact during an improv scene?
In my experience, silence in improv scenes creates space for subtlety. Words often get a lot of attention and the lack of them allows for other aspects of a performance to shine. It is used with maximum impact when it builds towards emotional connection and progressive discovery.
In the topic of subtlety in performance, I would like to recommend this video from Thomas Flight: “In praise of subtle performance”.
An improviser that is the epitome of emotional connection and progressive discovery is Chris Mead. He improvises and teaches in a way that encourages meaningful scenes (inviting silence where it is needed). All improvisers would benefit from more of that.
How much of improv is experienced/contributed as an individual? And which parts of it are experienced/contributed as a collective?
I think you grow the most as a performer through the improv collective that surrounds you. Your improv community (local and global) inspires you, supports you and enables your growth. Then you have to realize that potential, of course; but the impact of the collective is capital.
That being said, there is only so much you can learn from improv training, at a certain point what you have to do is get out there to experience the world, live, learn about other stuff and let it inspire your improvisation. Cinema, poetry, storytelling, music, you name it.
I guess what I am trying to say is that there is a balance. You don’t do the improv journey alone, but the community cannot do it for you.
Personally, I have been lucky enough to be exposed to improv both locally and globally, and to learn and be inspired from many sources. However, I would like to highlight the impact that my local community in Copenhagen has had in my improv journey (and in my life too). Shout out to the city’s improv scene and the amazing humans that are part of it. Shout out to ICC Theatre that put me on stage for the first time and shout out to Inconspicuous Comedy that does it currently. Go learn from them and go watch their shows.
Here is a photo of some of the amazing people from the Copenhagen improv scene.
At the time I am answering these questions I am about to move away from Copenhagen (after 10 years calling it home!) and am grateful for this local improv community where I have blossomed. At the same time, I am looking forward to finding my place in the improv scene of the city where I am going.
I met Carlos through Chris Mead’s Improv Cinema Club. He had some incredible insight on culture and sharing the space. I’m happy to have had this chance to get to know him better. I love how he incorporated text messages and boldfaced certain phrases to bring them to the forefront. You can catch him brightening stages through Inconspicuous Comedy or Carlos Moreno Improv.
Question #1: How much does ethics and morality play into improv? Either in the content or the practice (or however you want to answer that).
Ethics and morality have an impactful role on the type of scenes and characters that are created in a show. I think that you can use your own morality to inform character perspectives and points of view that you create. They may align with what you believe to be morally ‘good’ and fair which can bring depth, truth and deeper understand to character profiles. This could also be used to create characters that contradict how you as the improviser may see the world which can also lead to developing a rich character with a clear defunct point of view. There can be pitfalls if certain sensitive topics challenge the improvisers or audience ethics which why certain topics are usually avoided in improv scenes or treated extremely delicately so that everyone feels comfortable and safe at all times.
You mention everyone feeling “comfortable and safe at all times.” Why is this important?
I don’t think the purpose of improv is to make people uncomfortable or unsure about where the show is heading. You want the performers and audience to be at ease as we fully immerse ourselves into the world of the the show for that hour or half an hour of magic that will never be recreated again. For me, even though we may play jokes to reality, improv is a bit of escapism where you can play and be someone entirely different for a moment in time. It’s an art from that should be enjoyed by all and with that, people need to feel comfortable and safe.
Question #2: We talk about the importance of “expression” in improv, but what is “expression?” Where does it come from? How does it manifest itself?
The definition of expression is ‘The act of expressing, conveying, or representing in words, art, music, or movement; a manifestation.’ And I see expression in improv as a manifestation or extension of yourself. In all the characters that you may play or the scenes that those characters are involved in, there is always an element of ‘you’ the improviser in. I’m not too sure where it comes from but I can imagine it is something to do with grounding improve in familiarity, whether that be in the mundane or absurd. The way that you move your body, do physical stage work or your facial expressions are all dictated by expressing yourself and character beyond words.
I like how you centralize the improviser in the process – they are always accountable. Do you ever get “lost” in the process? And how does that play into the control of the improviser?
I try to not get lost in the process. My main goal is to be in the moment and react in a truthful human way. The last thing you want to do when performing is be too ‘in your head’ as it ruins the enjoyment. However, when rehearsing, that is the time to lay the foundation of what type of improviser you want to be. In that time you can create positive habits and to hold yourself to an ethical standard which will carry through to performances.
Question #3 (asked by the previous person interviewed): What work of art either illustrates best how you improvise or how you most want to improvise?
I can’t think of a particular work of art to illustrate my how I improvise because I may improvise with a different style depending on the day, how I feel and what the show I’m performing in may need. Sometimes I like to play a scene/characters in a grounded way which is close to reality or sometimes I like to play absurd characters and emphases the game of the scenes. Something I am always a fan of is having truthful and honest reactions in improv no matter what type of character you’re playing. Thinking less and truly being in the moment. A song I feel that could represent that is ‘unfinished sympathy’ by Massive attack, the video shows a women with a clear point of view singing about her emotions as the world continues to move around her. I like to think that I improvise with a purpose, I listen to my fellow players and navigate character relationships whilst always staying true to myself.
I watched Teresa Senyah perform as part of the Mixed Omens: Improvised Neil Gaiman show in London. She is one of the performers that draws you into their character. She was always present and brought a committed intensity to the show. I really enjoyed the storyline between Teresa, Chris Mead and Ki Shah. If you haven’t seen her in Michelle, you can catch them at Hoopla. Teresa has some of the best performance instincts I’ve seen in any improv show.
The Improv Boost 