Archive for the Out of Town Category

Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh, God! Yes!

One of the main, long-held tenets of improvisational comedy is the concept of “Yes, and.” This is the notion that whatever happens on stage, you accept, and then add to. So, you build onto the pyramid that your fellow actor began, rather than beginning your own skyscraper. Two competing jobs aren’t entertaining for audiences.

This is a basic rule because it tends to really help out scenes. If I say, “Your mother and I have been really worried about your drug problem,” and then you respond with, “You’re not my parents. I’m your father, and I’m worried about your drug problem,” you’ve failed to build on the scene I started. Instead, you’ve started something completely different. Yes, there are ways to make it work, and even to make it funny and emotionally connected, but I’m going to bet that you won’t be working with me for very long if you make this kind of thing a habit.

What if you “Yes, and” your “Yes, ands?” You’d get “Yes, Of Course!”

To me, this is an even better concept. Instead of simply agreeing, then adding and moving on, you are agreeing that whatever your scene partner(s) say(s) is THE MOST TRUE thing you have EVER HEARD.

Let’s take the same scene from above and apply “Yes, and:” Me: “Your mother and I have been really worried about your drug problem.” You: “It’s none of your business, Dad. Just let me live my own life.” Just two lines so far, but it has the makings of a really good, solid, grounded scene.

What if we “Yes, Of Course!” the same scene? Me: “Your mother and I have been really worried about your drug problem.” Actor from the back line: “The wall of this room is lined with bongs and needles from floor to ceiling.” You (as you tie off your arm and begin injecting yourself with heroin): “Fuck off, you ancient piece of shit.” Holy crap. All of a sudden, the stakes are WAY higher. A good, emotionally connected scene can still happen, and we’ve also got one heck of a picture of what’s going on in this room.

It’s picking up on one detail like this and running with it that will really help further your goal to transcend the average improv. You’ve also immediately found a game to play. Since the initiation of the scene was a good strong one, helping define characters, injecting emotion, and providing a good framework, you can now dive in and out of games, all while preserving the emotion and relationships of the scene.

It’s just a subtle mental change, just as the concept of “Predator Mind,” however the difference between “Yes, and” and “Yes, Of Course!” is another small step towards improv nirvana.

I’m stalking you while you’re on stage.

I’ve just returned from the Chicago Improv Festival, where I performed with Improv-Abilities. It was a great time, and I learned so much that it’ll take me a while to process it all. In my continuing effort to try to not be quite so long winded, I’ll split up my highlights. I love it… every time I go to Chicago, I come back with a series of new blog postings.

The first one is the one that has helped me personally, and one which I plan on immediately implementing in every troupe I coach. The concept is “Predator Mind,” a technique originally from Todd Stashwick, an actor who I enjoyed watching on “The Riches” before I even knew he was an improviser.

Predator mind is basically a state of hyperawareness, useful especially as you’re on the side of a scene. Like a dinosaur, hawk, or wolf, you immerse yourself in the scene, even though you’re not in it. You look for any opportunity to support the scene, heighten it, or clarify it. Many times, a scene does not need your support, and like a good predator, you know enough to stay out of the scene.

There is nothing about this technique that I don’t like. It solves the problem of improvisers sitting down when they’re on the sides. When implemented, every improviser listens as if they are actively participating in every scene. When you have the minds of your entire troupe engaged in every scene, you have increased the potential for something mind-blowing.

It seems like a very simple technique… and it is. That’s what makes it such a valuable tool. Every single member of your troupe can start doing this within 15 minutes. Perhaps it’s just a mental shift. It’s one thing to say, “Support your fellow troupe members.” But if you engage your Predator Mind, it provides a type of framework that makes giving that support much easier.

More cool techniques and observations to come…

The All-Important Booth

The long awaited Part III… the biggest lesson for me, which starts with a memory, and morphs into a good reminder:

6./7. Music is your friend/Why your tech should be an improviser

I remember one of the neatest moments from my time studying in Chicago was seeing a Harold show at i.o. in which one of the scenes took place at a school dance. A couple socially awkward teens were talking with one another, and at a lull in the conversation, the man cocked his head and said, “This is a great song.” The woman did the same and said, “Yeah, I love Journey.”

What happened next is impossible without planning ahead (which I’m certain didn’t happen), yet it happened anyway. A seeming split second after the word “Journey” came out of her mouth, the anthem “Don’t Stop Believing” piped through the sound system in the theater.  I’m positive there had to be some sort of lag time, but in my memory, it was instant, and I’m going to go ahead and go with my memory, because it’s somehow more romantic that way.

As the song played, the wallflower broke out of her shell, and did a two-minute improvised dance, using the entire stage. The tech did some really amazing dimming, runs, and flashing of the lights to help highlight this woman’s dance, and though two minutes might seem like a long time to spend during a scene, it was absolutely compelling. The combination of the music, lights, and commitment of the actress held me mesmerized. And I wasn’t the only one. The entire crowd was transfixed, and erupted into applause at the end.

After the show ended, I went over to talk to the tech (who happened to be one of my former improv teachers) to find out about what had happened.  Evidently, the ability to catalog and quickly find pieces of music was a new deal, and this had been the first practical use of that system. My former teacher was just as thrilled as everyone else. Had this been anyone else in the booth, this fantastic moment might have been missed, but it was an improviser at the top of his game that also possessed great technical skill and fabulous listening. He heard the call, added to the scene, and faded back into the background when it was time.

It still gives me shivers.  Too bad I’d forgotten about it.

Until (flash forward to the present) I went to see the show at the Playground. During their improvised dress rehearsal for a sketch show, Bella used (what I assume was) an iTunes playlist set on random to have opening music for each “sketch.” Most of the time this music was pretty well throwaway… to my judgment, the scene wasn’t really influenced by the music choice… with one notable exception.

The lights barely came up, with some 70s disco song playing. It doesn’t matter which one… so many of them are interchangeable. (That’s right, a little music criticism thrown in for free.) A woman fresh out of the shower stepped out and struck a pose (she was wearing a towel on her head… this group used random props that had been strewn across the stage.). After a few moments, a man went behind her, and started tracing the outline of her body in the air with his hands, so that all you could see were the woman, and a pair of hands caressing the air all around her - it was really a mix of sensual and funny… she had very little idea what was happening, as she kept her pose. When this played out, the man grabbed a random prop from the stage (a power strip), and started to dance with it just a little. Then he started to outline her body with the power strip, disco playing all the while, helping set the pace. Temptation was too much, and the guy decided he’d sensually plug the strip in to the nearest available “outlet.” The woman shrieked something about, “He clipped my hood,” and called for the tech to stop the music, which he did… and the scene unfolded from there.

I can’t believe it’s been a year since I’ve opened the Roving Imp, and I’ve yet to use the brilliant medium of music in a show. There’s so much potential there for helping to set the mood of a scene, and bring out some physicality in actors. I’ve only seen something like this done twice on stage, and both times it has left a really big impression. I’ve been working on a format that can use music (format may be too strong a word… it’s really just modified from formats that everyone uses), and I think I’ve arrived at something that will work. We’re going to workshop it the next couple weeks, and use it in the Spring Feelgood show on May 3. It may not be as mindblowing as the examples from Chicago… then again… why not?

Gender, Emotions, and Suggestions

More ideas that have helped renew my thinking… thank you, Chicago:

3. Gender Issues: I’m sure there will eventually be a longer post about this… but gender representation in certain groups is terribly important. In the first group (the more novice of the three) there was one female out of eight improvisers. She got a LOT of play time, as it seemed that these novice improvisers were not as comfortable portraying a female on stage… it was easier to just grab the actual female in the troupe. Luckily, she got lots of good character time, and was not pigeonholed into the traditional improvised female roles that beginning troupes often fall into: the whore, the mother, the bimbo girlfriend, the bitchy wife. Maybe this issue gets less important as the experience level of the group as a whole goes up, but it made me glad that my relatively inexperienced group back home has about a 50-50 mix of guys and gals.

The second group was two women, and they had no problems at all playing whatever character sprang to mind. I haven’t seen many two-person female groups, but I was a little surprised to see just how many male characters they portrayed. Maybe I shouldn’t be… A quote from Clay Morgan’s review of my Improv Thunderdome performance: “John played more women on stage than were in the audience that night.” I guess it happens a lot, eh?

The third group played the same character the entire time, and those characters appeared to be, for the most part, pretty close to themselves. The issue of gender never even entered my head. I guess the illusion was complete.

4. Emotional connections are still the way to go: I’m sure I harp on this all the time, so I’ll make this short, with no pointed examples, but I think what separated the two groups I enjoyed from the one I didn’t was that the characters in the last two groups were actually vested in one another, and that made me care more as an audience member.

5. Really cool shows don’t need to take the suggestion literally: Something I occasionally drift away from. What should happen? You get the suggestion “skunk,” and you do scenes based on images and themes that the suggestion brings to mind. “But John, that’s harder than just going out on stage and petting a skunk!” Not necessarily, my whiny friend.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of room for skunk petting, and scenes about completely wiping out an opponent, or seeing the skunk family at home, but what about taking that suggestion out to a wider place? What is the skunk’s role in the animal kingdom, and how can that transfer to a human character? What would a character be like that walked into a scene as if he had just smelled a skunk? Maybe my character has a gray streak in her hair. Maybe my character will be a great lover, like Pepe le Peu. From the audience, these characters and scenes will probably look like they have nothing to do with the suggestion… and that’s OK. The point of the suggestion is not to give the audience a literal reinterpretation. The point is to start the creative flow of the artist.

Again, if you just get the suggestion, and immediately are starting a scene, you go with whatever comes to mind… but if you’re  on the sidelines and have half a brain free while you’re listening, why not try something more esoteric?

Yes… there’s still more to come… stay tuned.

Lessons Learned… Performing & Collaborating

Seeing a show in a new theater in Chicago was a great refresher. It’s really important for a serious improviser to get out and see what other people are doing, and it’s especially helpful if you can check out the scene in another city. Chicago, of course, has the most going on in improv, so there’s a lot to see. I was reminded me of several things that I had forgotten, or schooled me in things that I didn’t previously know. I’m going to split this into parts, as I learned a lot, and am also longwinded. Part I of that list follows:

A. Part of learning is performing: Very few things will change your behavior faster than doing something that is supposed to be comedy, and then getting no laughs. That’s good education… the kind that’s really tough to get in a workshop. I know performers who started out going for the quick easy joke, or by using quotes from television shows… to say the jokes and quotes fell flat would be an understatement. It’s funny when you’re in the context of a Simpsons episode… but not recycled coming from stage. I’ve told people this before, and they said they didn’t really believe it until they tried it in front of a crowd, and they felt people rolling their eyes without even looking.

On the other hand, nothing will reinforce your good habits faster than getting appreciation from an audience. Crafting a scene involving two characters with names that know each other and then exploring that relationship within the parameters of the scene seems like an interesting exercise during workshop. When the crowd goes nuts during a show because they can’t believe you just made up that entire scene, keeping them captivated and invested… well… there ain’t no better feelin’.

B. Different groups together: Nearly all the true Chicago-style longform shows are three-team events. It’s this way for the Harold teams at i.o., and for the teams I saw at the Playground.  Here in KC, this isn’t the norm, and it’s easy to forget that our way is not the only way. I feel like we’ve just recently figured this out, not only here at the Roving Imp (where we’re slowly phasing in multi-group nights), but also with multi-group nights that have been hosted at the Westport Coffee House. I know that the Trip 5s, Babelfish, Makeshift Militia, and several other groups have “split the rent” at WCH… I think as there get to be more and more improv groups in our city, this is going to be the way to go.

With more groups, there’s more competition for talent, venues, and audience… performing together could solve all those problems, and get your face out in front of people that wouldn’t normally come see you.  At RI, we’ve traditionally (in the past year) had one group do two shows back-to-back. That works well sometimes, but through some experimentation lately, I’ve found that presenting more than one group and allowing a little discount for seeing both really increases audience for both groups. For a theater owner, that’s important. We’ll be doing a lot more of this as I create or work out deals with more improv groups.

Part II to come…

Clone Wars

My apologies for not updating in so long… the past week was spent in Chicago on a much-needed vacation with my family, and then catching up on work when I returned.

During my trip, I decided to skip the pilgrimage to my alma improv mater, i.o., and instead went to check out a theater I had never previously visited… The Playground. When I went in, I was shocked to discover that the Playground and the Roving Imp could easily be long lost sisters. Upon walking in, it was like coming home. Both theaters are similar in size, have an identical capacity (75), are laid out in a similar way, and also had sparse attendance for the show I attended. :-(

I saw the Sandbox Improv Showcase, which takes three different teams to form a 90-minute show (which is the norm for a Chicago improv show). The names of the particular teams escape me at the moment, but the essence of the performances linger with me, waiting to be scribed in the paragraphs below.

As with other Chicago shows I’ve seen, the most novice team goes first, middle team next, and the most experienced team rounds out the night. This was also the case on this night. The first team, made up of seven men and one token woman (who absolutely held her own, by the way), performed a format where one two person scene occurs stage left, and then another eventually takes over on stage right. The original scene comes back on stage left, and the second scene follows it. At the edit, a different scene begins, and the pattern starts over again. Simple, and easy to follow. I will probably steal this idea. The improvisers on this team were obviously new to the art, asking far too many questions, failing to recognize gifts and games, and going for the quick (unfunny) joke at the expense of the scene. It was a pretty rough set, but gave me hope that yes, Chicago improv is not all glitz and glitter and uber-professionals.

The second team was a two-person female troupe, who took my suggestion of “floor lamp” and used it to start a documentary-style interview about two college roommates, followed by several freestyle scenes along the theme of “people that live with other people, and the people that love them.” Really entertaining, great characters, fantastic relationships, and an overall great show… my favorite of the night.

The third team performed an improvised sketch rehearsal. At first glance, it appeared that this team consisted of a guy and two gals on stage, but it quickly became apparent that a fourth male member was doing his improv from the booth, in his role as tech for the sketch show. The group got eight suggestions from the audience at the top of their set, and used those suggestions as the titles for the eight sketches which were to be in the show. The actual sketches were fine, but the real highlight of the set was the banter/arguments between the on-stage actors and the tech… that’s where the real emotion was, after all. Good, solid entertainment. Plus, there was an improviser that could easily have been the sister of KC improviser Tina Morrison. Eerie. The evening was bookended with clones. First the theater, then the actual actors.

I learned some new things, and was reminded of some things that I once knew, and had not focused on for awhile. I’ll highlight those in my next post. Tune in next time.

|