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Forming of the Imp: the BeforeTimes

In most respects, the creation story of the Roving Imp is unspectacular and unimportant. Boiled down, the whole story is “I was tired of scrounging for space and being hasseled by the man, so I bought a theater.” As with most things, however, if you dig down, there’s more just beneath the surface story.

I’ve written before about the community theater group I created just out of high school, the Better Than Fair Players. This group was together for eight years, performing all over Bonner Springs, Basehor, and Shawnee, in churches, schools, rec centers, and even outside. Toward the middle and end, we were doing five shows a year without an official permanent home. Each show was another negotiation for space. Each rehearsal represented another day of completely setting up the stage from scratch, rehearsing, and then completely breaking everything down and loading props back in cars and stowing sets in an out-of-the-way place. It was during this four-or-more-times weekly exercise in frustration that the seeds were planted. Yes, like 50% of all actors, I got the completely original idea, “We should have a theater of our own.”

Unlike most, however, I began to do some research, and I began to look for an appropriate space. After about a year of looking, I found a place I really liked. I put an offer on the building… and it fell through for various reasons which may or may not have to do with the fact that the seller had just emerged from prison. After another six weeks, I found another place. It wasn’t as ideal, but I thought I could probably make it work. I put in an offer, but the deal fell through, as it had problems with sewers… mainly the fact that it wasn’t connected to any.

At that point, my personal life sort of imploded for awhile, and to say that the theater search took a backseat would be a gross understatement. My main focus in life at that point was to try to save my marriage (which didn’t work, by the way). After that little disintegration occurred, I decided to expand my horizons by doing some shows in the big city of Kansas City for awhile. It had been eight years, after all, since I had done a show for someone else… I’d been directing my own shows since I was 19 years old, and I thought it might be a good idea to go learn from other directors.

I did a couple shows, and quickly found out that those other directors should really be learning from ME. The directors I worked with were great people, but did not live up to my own standards. I wanted specific feedback and a consistent, coherent vision for a show. This is not too much to ask, but I didn’t get it. (This is not uncommon, from what I have heard, unless you work with certain specific directors.)

Though this foray into “big city theater” was disappointing in certain ways, it really opened up my world in other ways. First, it got me known as a person that knew what he was doing. I quickly got hired to direct shows in town, and found that my directing skills transferred very well from the small town to the big(ger). Second, it introduced me to the world of improv.

I had done improv before. I had even taught improv before. However, I had never before been plugged in to the “world” of improv. I had always before been the one that had known the most about improv in the room (which was not much, FYI). But when Full Frontal Comedy took a chance on me (due completely, I think, to a funky made up dance I came up with in a show), I found a group of really talented, funny people that I didn’t teach and that I wasn’t responsible for. I learned a lot from that group, and made a lot of great friends that I have to this day.

At about the same time I found FFC, I also went back to school to get my master’s degree. The combination of FFC, a very special moment in an entrepreneurship class, and a pivotal conversation with my (new) wife’s sister resparked this idea in my head: I can open a theater now. Not only that: I MUST open a theater.

I quickly mapped out the pros, cons, and things I would need to do before it would be possible. The main thing I needed: a true pedigree from a respected place of improv. So I signed up for classes at i.o. in Chicago. i.o. has the style of improv that is most like the style I like best. Yes, Second City is better known, but has the philosophy that improv should be used as a tool, whereas i.o. founder Del Close always maintained that improv is an artform by itself.

Chicago was fantastic. It helped me in ways that I could never have imagined. I am now a completely different kind of improviser than before I went: a good one. I consider the majority of scenes I do now to be successful… because now I have the experience to recognize why things go awry. Maybe that’s a different post.

Anyway… now I had the experience, knowhow, and the credentials. Now for the hard part… making the theater happen.

To be continued…

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Shakespeare had it right

The importance of a group’s name… it can be summed up in one really old quote:

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.”

To me, a troupe’s name is one of the least important things to worry about. With so many other considerations to think about during the formation period of a group, putting a great deal of energy into a troupe’s name isn’t that efficient. It is however, a little important, and worthy of at least a little thought. Gotta call it something, after all. I think that the groups I’m currently in would be just as successful with any number of different names, but a group name does help clue in your audience of what kind of experience they might expect.

Aside from my personal aversion to having a number as part of the group’s name*, any group name is on the table for me. When I look to name a new group, I try to get something either fun, badass, historical, descriptive, or some combination of said descriptors. Which of these I choose depends on the circumstances that surround the group.

Evidence the groups I have personally named, and reasons for such names:

Better Than Fair Players - my original theater group, so named as a group of us were sitting around at our original venue, the Wyandotte County Fair, wondering what name we should give ourselves. Fun, Historical, and Descriptive… just in case we had a less-than-stellar show (which only happened once in eight years, to my recollection).

Roving Imp - the current theater group and improv troupe, which came from a huge list of about 150 possible names. This was the only one my wife and I could agree on… and she wasn’t that big of a fan of it at first. We settled on this one for not only Unusual, Fun, and Subtly Descriptive reasons (since improvising is the main activity, which some people call “improving,” it’s a small leap to separate into two parts - imp roving - and then reverse - roving imp), but also because there were a lot of possibilities for marketing and logo creation (which has been described by journalistic professionals as “badass”).

Game Show - This one is completely Descriptive. Maybe I would have had better luck with a better name, but I doubt it. It seemed important to me to distinguish this from an actual improv show, which make up the majority of the rest of the RI schedule.

Movie Prov - Also completely Descriptive. Since it’s not an improv show per se, I owe it to my audiences to let them know.

Trivial Prov-suit - a little Fun, but mostly Descriptive. The play on words spoke to me.

Omega Directive - The newest group at RI, I chose this one mainly for Badass reasons. However, it’s also Subtly Descriptive. OD will use the one-sentence episode synopsis as the basis for its shows, and Omega Directive is the title of a particular episode of one of my favorite series.

Red Rubber Ball - Another RI group that will premier soon, RRB was basically chosen for its Fun connotations. The name implies energy and good times, which would be great for an audience to expect.

Others might have different ideas, but to me, it’s much more important to put on a good show, regardless of name. It doesn’t matter if you have the coolest name on the planet… if you suck, it won’t matter.

* - not to say I shudder when I see groups with numbers in their names… but if I had a group called, for example, Omega 6, I would tire of people asking things like, “If you’re Omega 6, why do you only have five people?” or “Are you part of the Omega 8s?” There’s a group from Washington called onesixtyone… I think. They might be oneeightyone or oneseventyone or something.

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Are You Nuts?

This started as a response to a blog Trish posted about opening a theater.  (see http://kcimprovgeek.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-it-takes.html )

My response got to be too lengthy… and that’s why I have a blog, right? Seriously, though, read hers before you read mine.

Just so you know, this post is somewhat less optimistic than my personality usually likes… but it’s real.

From someone else that’s been there… there’s nothing on Trish’s list I disagree with. My experiences (so far) are of course a little different, but it caused my eye to twitch a little when I saw my week laid out before me on this blog - because not only do you have to do each and every thing on the list… but you have to do them WELL.

I did purchase my building, but did it primarily as a real estate investment. If I didn’t have the rent coming in, and if I didn’t live in the basement, then there’s no way in hell this whole theater thing would pay for itself. The only way I could figure to make it work (at least in the short term) was to make sure I didn’t count on ANY income from the theater. Thank God I have a wife with a good corporate job that is completely understanding about following a dream and contributing to the art of the world.

And even though I have an MBA, which helped me figure out how to do all this non-creative crap, I still made a bunch of mistakes due to the fact that this was my first ever business venture. Those mistakes (and the cost of starting a business) led me to the edge of financial ruin, but through luck and personal grit, the edge is getting a little farther away all the time. As I’ve said on a number of occasions, it seems that there is a reason that most business owners are old white guys. They’re the only ones with the money to be able to start something. This is why my theater might lack the spit and polish of your average million-dollar performing arts venue. No cash for chrome, but plenty of heart and plenty of good entertainment.

Trish… you’re correct. People that want to do this are truly insane… I never claimed mental stability myself. This whole “starting a theater” thing has caused or exacerbated a number of the most fierce non-death issues you can face in society: problems in my marriage, bankruptcy, foreclosure of my previous home, the near evaporation of a social life, and owing money to my family which I swear I will pay back one day.

And I can predict the responses, because I know how I would have responded. I would have said, “Well, those things won’t happen to me. I’m smart enough to avoid those problems.” Maybe you are… but what about all those problems I managed to avoid? There were lots. Zoning… Water meters… the pouring of concrete… insurance… remodeling… the list could go on. These were all areas which could have easily derailed me, but I was smart and/or lucky enough to be able to sail through.

I don’t want to sound like a naysayer, but this gig isn’t for everyone. However, if you’ve read these horror stories and Trish’s, and still have starry eyes, then do it. If you’re got it in your head, then nothing will stop you. I was the same way, and kind of still am, even after everything. How can I resist helping a kindred soul? After all, I think I’d still do it again, because the final product fulfills me in ways that nothing else could do. (OK… one other thing, but you can’t do that all the time, in front of a crowd of paying guests.)

The thing I was the most unprepared for - You’re going to need at least $10,000 in the bank, depending on what you want to do. It took me about that much to get my space ready… from transportation of the seats I got for free to the purchase of the lights & sound to materials to build walls, the stage, the green room, the lobby, the restrooms, etc. I had to have more since I was purchasing a building, but you might not be doing that. You also have to have a strong, yet extremely flexible personality, to be able to make the tough choices, stick by them, and then completely change them when circumstances change, which they do nearly every other day, especially in the beginning.

Unless you’re a lot richer than I am, you’ll need to either possess or know someone that possesses good construction knowledge. Contractors are hugely expensive, and I saved a ton by having a wonderful family with great knowledge. If you look at my hands, you’ll see that they’re lined with scars, some of which came from the demolition/construction process. I had none of those skills, and am now trying to forget the ones I gained. There’s no stress like it. It changed me… I’m more cautious than I was. I don’t jump willy-nilly into projects like I used to. There have been many nights spent awake figuring out a problem, and other nights spent alone with tear-stained cheeks in a room, surrounded by past due notices.

Sound bleak? I think most of the population would be utterly mentally destroyed by this process. It was tough for me, but the whole time, my light at the end of the tunnel was in sight… the dream of a theater… the dream I’d had for over a decade. Each show, event, class, or workshop I host here in my little theater helps make the trouble worth it. Each dollar that comes in the door is one less dollar I have to scrounge for. Each laugh and each smile helps heal the mental strain I remember so well. The year I opened the theater - last year- was the worst year of my life. But I’m glad it happened, because though this year is only halfway through, it just might be the best year… thanks in part to the ol’ Imp upstairs.

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A glimpse of the maelstrom to come

People may not believe this, but I’m actually not someone that seeks out the spotlight, especially in large groups of people. My ideal environment is a smallish gathering of about 5-15 people. The huge gatherings in Chicago were many times bigger, which put me in my usual “big party” role - that of observer and listener.

I met a lot of people. I hung out in clumps. I listened a lot. Every now and then I’d ask a question. Not everything we talked about was improv, but of course, that was a topic that was discussed a lot, as everyone in the room had the same passion… and there’s nothing like talking to people who are passionate about something, especially when it’s something you’re passionate about as well.

I talked to some folks from Washington, D.C. who perform at the Washington Improv Theater. I had seen them in shows earlier in the day, and was really impressed with both groups that came from WIT. So, I talked a little, and listened a lot, and one conversation has altered the way that I will run the Roving Imp from now on. The folks at WIT have several ensembles, each separate from one another, performing at separate times, yet all call the same place home. This is a really simple concept, and I had of course thought of doing this before… but Washington is much, much bigger than Bonner Springs, so my “let’s get a whole bunch of groups together” idea was on the back burner. There’s a shortage of players, coaches, and time with my family, after all.

I don’t remember exactly what it was in this conversation that sparked my new idea, but I remember exactly when it happened. It was one of those perfect moments of clarity, where you’re mystically at one with the universe, and you can see the whole of existence spread out before you, and the fibers that connect it all. Those moments last only a second at most… but in that second, it became clear. The time had come to branch out.

We’ve been slowly growing toward multiple Roving Imp groups. We’ve begun Trivial Prov-suit. We’ve had the High School Showdown. But now, I was ready to  formalize and expand. I came home from Chicago and started brainstorming. I then coalesced my ideas into concrete goals. I laid out a plan to expand into eight different Roving Imp productions by the time April 2009 rolls around. Huge step, eh? In April 2008, we had two groups - the Imps and the high schoolers. What makes me think I can get six more in one year? Maybe I’m just a megalomaniac. Maybe I’m crazy like a fox. Only time will tell.

The Imps will continue as we have been. They’ll perform twice a month, half short form and half rotating long forms. Trivial Prov-suit will continue. We started in May, and it’s one of our most promising shows. The high school program will continue, and hopefully expand (that’s another topic altogether). We’ve added Movie Prov, which we start this Saturday (perhaps another topic as well). I’m also in the process of casting a new elite longform group called Omega Directive, which will take television episode synopses as suggestions for the show. Ideally, the show will not resemble said television episode at all. I’ve just started talking with another improviser about reviving our two-person longform show, Dictionary Soup. So far, two weeks after Chicago, I have six of my eight groups in the works, and things are not progressing too quickly to handle. I have ideas for two more groups, but we’re going to just sit on those for awhile… we’ll let these other groups have a few shows first.

I’ve recently cast a whole bunch of new talented folks, and they’re all terribly excited about all the opportunities to do some shows. It’s my hope that they will get to perform a lot, and will also be driven to go see the shows of the other ensembles as well. I’ve arranged rehearsal schedules to overlap somewhat, so that when we go over longform technique and good improv tips, the groups are able to share their strengths and weaknesses, performing together. I also am looking forward to creating ensembles that develop critical eyes. As they work together and watch each other, they will eventually be able to give good feedback as they watch from the audience. Performing all this quality improv week after week will cause people to take notice. We’ll attract additional talented improvisers, more students, and more audience. Of course, that’s more long-range. I don’t expect miracles by April 2009… but maybe some of the groundwork will be laid.

There you go. Pie in the sky dreaming. Two months from now, everything might self destruct. But you never know if you don’t try. If we’re going to make Bonner Springs into an oasis of improvisational art, we’re going to have to try a lot of ideas.

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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.

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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…

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Learning from the past

I have two new groups of high schoolers that are excited about learning some improv over the summer. This is my second batch, and second batches are notoriously better than first batches, simply because the teacher has been seasoned properly. (I must be hungry for cookies.)

When I look back on my first year teaching high schoolers, I often feel sorry that they didn’t get the Mr. Robison that I became in the following years. I gained a great understanding of how to create a balance between being fun, presenting necessary information, discipline, and dealing with administrative pressures. I didn’t have that understanding my first year. I imagine I was exactly the kind of boring teacher that I never wanted to become. Thankfully, with experience, I was able to overcome that shortcoming, at least according to student reviews.

Though I’ve got even more experience now, there’s still plenty of room to learn.  This year, I wanted to really get off on a fun foot, and we played lots of games. Mission accomplished in one sense… they had a lot of fun, and so did the audiences. In another sense, they kind of got the short end of the stick. My first group of high schoolers this past year had a great time, but I feel like I didn’t quite give them a proper grounding in the improv that they did. I really didn’t help them develop their fundamentals as much as I should have. There are plenty of fun games that help develop those basics… so why didn’t I use them?

It’s all about experience. The students are definitely better than when they started with me, but if I had had a bit more focus, they could have been even better, and still had just as much fun. So starting with these summer classes, I’ve expanded the time by a half hour, to make sure we can have tons of fun as well as get those fundamentals down. This way, they not only have fun, but I also get my semi-selfish dream of creating a huge army of young improvisers to help transform the city into one that matches my image of an ideal artsy community. Long ways off, yes, but mighty oaks grow from small bits of squirrel food.

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So… Cold…

Some people don’t like ‘em, but I think warmups are an important improv tool for several reasons:

1. Leave the Past Behind

When you’re just getting into your rehearsal or show,  everyone is coming from vastly different days that may have been filled with winning glamorous prizes, an argument with a loved one, a traffic ticket, or a really good sandwich at lunch. A little warming up before you begin helps everyone to forget (or at least postpone the remembering of) their day. Everyone can start on a relatively clean sheet of paper.

2. Burn out the Bad

Many times, even though you’re working from a place free of outside stresses, you may not yet be in “the improv zone.” With warmups, you can burn out those first few scenes that aren’t quite up to your own good performance standards. Personally, my first scene of the night is never my very best one. I think this is true of most people. Why not get that first scene out of the way early, when there’s no audience watching?

3. Get the Cells in Motion

While I’m on stage, I move in many varied ways like I never do during the rest of the day. On stage, there’s a lot more crawling, rolling on the ground, crouching, squatting, faux humping, walking funny, wild arm undulations, and head bobbing.  A good physical warmup gets the dust burned off your muscles, and you’re ready to do some moving around. Nobody likes an entire evening of talking heads, after all.

It also gets your energy flowing. I’m a lot more apt to do an energy-filled character if my cells are buzzing with some good, warm movement energy. This is also good for your audience - energetic characters are usually harder to do, and therefore more rare. We owe our audience those kinds of characters once in awhile, and a physical warmup can help bring those characters out.

4. Forge the Group

In most groups I know, the warmup is the only activity in which each and every person in the group is up and actively participating at the same time. Most games don’t use everyone, so everyone playing at once really helps build your sense of group, and helps further develop group mind. At Roving Imp, every rehearsal starts with circle warmups, where we can all look into each others’ eyes, do our exercises, catch up on each others’ lives, and get focused on what we’re about to do together.

Whether you realize it or not, warmups are accomplishing all these extremely important tasks. I think that unless you’re the Chosen One of Improv*, and you’re performing with more than one or two other close friends that you’ve been with for at least five consistent years, you need a warmup. Otherwise, you may as well flush the first half hour of your rehearsal down the toilet, and while you’re in there, just hope that your group will manage to cohesively gel without getting some up-front face time.

*If you are the Chosen One, I would like for you to come perform with me.

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The Great Petri Dish of Creativity

A program note: earlier in the week I had a long, glorious posting that outlined the history of how the Roving Imp came to be, in more specifics. After awhile I thought, “This is getting pretty long - I’d better save.” I hit the save button, which caused my program to go haywire, and the entire thing has now moved on to the electronic oblivion. As of this moment, I am still too heartbroken to re-create the entire thing. It’ll come later. Damn my longwindedness.

Every so often, it’s important to take a break to charge your batteries. For the past few weeks I’ve been feeling that my improv was not my best. I haven’t been too happy with my character choices, relationship developing, or hosting ability. I’ve had really great characters and scenes, of course (my child Nazi during this month’s IA First Friday springs to mind), but it’s felt like these stellar scenes have been the exception lately.

So, I took a look at my schedule, and noticed quickly that I have been spending so much time on stage lately that my creativity cultures haven’t had time to grow. I kept scraping out the bottom, occasionally finding a good gem, but at some point you’ve got to stop and just let the universe work its good, relaxing, magic. This is a good time for it. The Roving Imp traditionally takes off Memorial Day weekend (the one other time it’s come around in our history), and we have our regular Thursday rehearsal off as well. Looking at this week, I have exactly one improv-related obligation in a six-day period. Wow. Already, after just a day and a half, I feel strangely relaxed. There’s been no show planning, no extra marketing push, no juggling schedules. I love doing this stuff, but it’s a surprising relief to not have to do them.

The only improv event of the week is my regular improv class on Saturday, which strangely has not been affected by my personal doldrums. My teaching and coaching abilities seem to be unaffected by my creative void. So I have no worries for my students - in fact, this Saturday’s class on “Creating the Second Beat” is easily my favorite to date.

I don’t classify this as burnout… I am still in love with the art of improvisation, but rather have seem to hit the bottom of the on-stage biorhythm. I can’t wait to get my mojo back… and I think this weekend might just be the way to do it. No shows or rehearsals, and just one class.

Oh yeah… no more blogging, either.

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Improvise, by M. Napier: A Review

Though I’ve been doing improvisation for a long time, I’ve read very little on the subject. It’s been one of those “learn by doing” things, and has worked really well. One of my goals lately has been to actually read more. Here are my thoughts on the first in a series of books I plan to read: “Improvise. Scene from the inside out,” by Mick Napier.

I’m happy to say that this easy-to-read and understand book has changed my thinking a little bit. Even in the first few chapters, which I largely found to be a little too basic for my taste, I found a couple nuggets that have already affected the way I approach my teaching. The most important change for me, is that I’m no longer emphasizing “Improv Rules” as part of the first class. I think the traditional improv “rules” are still important… Say yes to your partner and yourself… instead of questioning, add information… etc. However, Napier asserts that thinking about these rules just results in more thinking… and less living in the scene. Most people have a tough time getting out of their head… so I’ve decided that I’m no longer going to start off people’s improv careers by giving them a list of rules to keep in their heads.

This is not to say that I’m going to let students get away with complete denial, question-asking, stagnant-prov. As we do scenes, if they completely flop, I’ll say something like, “Did you feel like you were having trouble easily finding something to talk about?” When they agree, I’ll say, “Here’s why…” and then tell them that scenes in general go better when you accept what your scene partner says, etc.

Really, this is how things should go. After all, everything that happens on stage is genius, and everything that happens in a scene is correct… so it’s really odd that we’d immediately follow up that statement with a list of rules, even if it’s only three. I’ve been heading this direction for awhile. I’ve started telling classes that what we’ll be learning is how to help ensure improv scenes will be successful more of the time. Does denial ruin scenes? Absolutely. Can real comedy happen from it. Absolutely. So… no more rules for me.

My other favorite parts of the book were at the end - the advanced improvisation section reminded me of quite a few exercises and ways of thinking that had become ingrained within me… and being reminded of the building blocks of your improv is really a great call home. All the time, I find myself either matching energies with the other person on stage or doing the complete opposite. Napier cites this as a technique in the book… and it’s good to be reminded that “Oh yeah… that’s why I do that.”

The other greatest section was the advice and guidelines for improvisers section. Every improviser needs to read this section… particularly the section entitled “The Perfect Actor.” Some of my favorite pieces of advice for the actor:

Make strong choices - do something on stage, and own it.

Shut the fuck up - in rehearsals and notes, just listen.

Show up and be on time.

Try anything.

Don’t interrupt anyone at any time. If you do, apologize.

Jump on stage with enthusiasm.

Sit near others.

Also, as a kind of weird, nearly tacked-on chapter, Napier compares improvisation to thermodynamics. As an old-school nerd from way back, this was really interesting to me. I talk all the time about the “energy” from the audience, because it’s real. I’ve always assumed it was the flip side of my Gemini personality… the side that believes in intangible mystic energy, flowing from person to person. It was really nice to see this kind of audience energy explained in a more scientific way. So many times I’ve been on stage and commented that “I’m not getting any energy back from this room.”

If I may paraphrase and extrapolate, energy goes everywhere, and some rooms cause more wasted energy to occur than others. Perhaps the lights aren’t right for the room, or the air conditioning or heating is adding or sapping the wrong kind of energy. You can even derail your own energy train by unexpectedly changing characters onstage, second guessing, or being afraid. Then again, maybe the room feels good if the audience is responding well, adding energy with clapping and laughing.

At the end, there’s a great chapter with some good exercises to do alone at home. I’ve done lots of these before, and found them helpful.

All in all, this is a really solid book on improv. I think it would be most helpful for those that are interested in the art, but are not yet on a team, or are just starting out. For people with more experience, it’s still a pretty good read, especially toward the end.