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Sunday, October 30, 2011

I Know Everything. No, Really. I Totally Do.

Okay, okay. Enough with the Justin-Bieber-mocking. How 'bout I actually give you some information on information instead?

The whole instant expert thing in improv can be really fun or a total nightmare, depending on how you feel about spouting nonsense. I am a big proponent of it, so I like being an instant expert. But there is a difference between spouting instant expert nonsense and just vomiting bizarro information, and it's kinda important to know the difference.

First of all, experts all have one thing in common, and that's that they love to share their knowledge about their area of expertise. So be bold and sound absolutely sure of your "facts." Then make sure the information is about the thing you are an expert in. If you've been labeled a surgeon and you're all bold and everything, but you just start talking (boldly) about the nanoscepter intersecting the hypotenuse, we don't know what that means or what that information has to do with anything in your scene. But if you tell your nurse or the other doctor, or even the patient, "We're going to have to use the nanoscepter to intersect the hypotenuse in order to stop the patellar hemorrhage," we still don't know what it means, but we know that the patient is seriously f*ed up, and you are just the person to fix him.

Another hint to giving good instant expert information is to use specifics. Throw out statistics: "The nanoscepter procedure has restored lateral brain function to 43.2% of patients." "Over 16,457 people work at Target world-wide, and of those, 87% are functionally color-blind." "Valentine's day began in 1527 a.d. in Egypt, when Pharaoh Tentwilo left his mummified heart to his queen after his untimely death." It doesn't matter if you don't know what happened in 1205 b.c. or what the atmosphere of Venus is or how to cook beef wellington. If you commit to your expert character and your information, we'll believe it.

Finally, remember that not all experts are scientists or doctors or engineers. If you're labeled a hillbilly, porch-dwelling redneck, you are still an expert! Every character, in fact, is an expert in his or her own way. The hillbilly, porch-dwelling redneck may know everything there is to know about chiggers, or moonshine or the mating habits of bayou crawfish, and some of those details should come out in the scene to help define the location, the characters and even the characters' relationship (crawfishing buddies, for example). The scene isn't about those details, but the details add necessary background to the scene.

The real trick to being an instant expert in any field is trust. Just trust yourself and don't judge the information that pops into your brain and comes out of your mouth. Easier said than done when it comes to knowing how to prepare for an arctic expedition or a Justin Bieber concert, I realize. But that's where Held2gether improv classes come in. H2G classes have helped 99.87% of students achieve total improvisational stellardom with a statistically insignificant incidence of judgeocity and three orders of magnitude more giggledom.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Would You Lie to Me?

Here's a little known fact: improv can help you lie better.

Okay, look. I'm not advocating lying. And in most ways, improv promotes more virtuous traits, such as honesty, listening and teamwork. But there is a time and a place for everything, and sometimes you gotta make shit up.

Let's say, hypothetical speaking, that you told your friend you couldn't go to the Justin Bieber concert with him because you were feeling ill. (Just the prospect of going to a Justin Bieber concert makes me feel a little queasy, but that's another blog post.) Then, instead of tucking yourself into bed with Nyquil and The Breakfast Club, you go to your favorite bar with some non-Bieber-fever-peeps. Naturally, as Murphy's Law would have it, the Bieberite shows up after the show to find you, not sick at all and downing martinis with abandon.

We'll ignore the fact that there's a good chance you're not concerned about maintaining a friendship with a legal adult who attends Justin Bieber concerts, and pretend that you do want to keep this relationship. WTF do you say to redeem yourself?

You could go with the obvious - and not at all believable - miraculous recovery story. "Dude. I took the Nyquil, and I felt better. But by then you had already left for the concert and there was no way to meet up with you." Um, lame.

Or you could use the skills you learned in H2G improv classes and become an instant expert: "Oh, Bieberite, I'm so glad you're here so you can tell us all about the show! You know, I was so devastated to miss it that I was determined to get better in time to join you. So I went on the internet and Googled typhoid fever remedies, because that's what I had. Anyway, it's often fatal but one thing that seems to put typhoid into remission is the combination of dim lighting and distilled potatoes. I didn't have any potatoes at home, but since vodka is made from potatoes, I figured a martini would work. Anyway, it's because the low light causes your corneas to constrict, while the vodka increases endorphin exoplasmic recession, which results in the spontaneous introspection of the typhus virus."

At this point, the Bieber-peeper will start to wonder if this might be true. There is so much factual-sounding information, that it seems unlikely you could make it up. But don't take any chances. Make sure to finish strong. "I felt better almost immediately and could have met you in time for the show, but unfortunately, typhoid fever is highly contagious for 7.75 hours after it has gone into remission. The only way not to start an epidemic like Typhoid Mary is to remain in a dimly lit area with plenty of distilled potatoes so that everyone who comes into contact with the carrier will have the necessary immunity to stave off the disease. As much as I wanted to see Justin sing, I couldn't in good conscience subject him - or you - to the grim possibility of death by typhoid fever."

Thanks to your improv skills, your friend is now thanking you for being so considerate in thinking of Justin's well-being instead of being mad that you bailed on the show.

Of course, on the off chance that you don't have friends who try to drag you to pop concerts, you can always use your instant expert skills to impress a date, convince the boss that you're smarter than the other guy who's going up for the same promotion or explain to your neighbor why mowing your lawn every week is actually bad for the environment, the economy and U.S-China relations.

You're welcome.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Committed to Commitment

Along with information and agreement, commitment is one of the three pillars of improv. On any given day, I could argue that any of those is the most important. Today I say that commitment is the most important.

Yes, I'll tell you why. Cuz that's just how I roll.

Let's say you have a 2-person scene. If one person denies something, it stops the momentum and the scene basically has to start over. But as long as both people aren't in denial mode, it's still possible to make a scene work. Same with information: if only one person goes to Crazyville, the other person can still justify the weirdness. If both people are spewing randomness, then you're screwed.

With commitment, it only takes one person to eff up a scene. As soon as one person bails, you have no scene - because you can't do improv alone.

I was in a non-H2G class recently, and we were doing an exercise involving relative status in the scene. After connecting with my partner and getting a hoity-toity vibe from her, I inferred that I was the low-status person in the scene so I became very small and meek and said, "I'm sorry we ran out of gas, Donna. I know I was supposed to fill the tank, but I forgot. I'm really sorry." Perhaps not a brilliant start to an improv scene, but at least I gave her a name and some clear information. She looked at me for a second, then spun around to the non-Darren teacher and said, "What is she doing? I don't know who has the higher status!"

I was beyond startled, because as we learn from the very first Held2gether improv class, you don't bail. Like Jester told Maverick, "You never, never leave your wingman." Sure it's a class, and class is about learning, but by staying in the scene and working it out herself, "Donna" woulda learned more than she did from the non-Darren teacher telling her, "Well, she's acting very meek and apologetic, so it seems like she's given you the status in the scene. And by the way, don't ever bail like that again."

To be fair, abandoning a scene outright is very rare, even in a classroom setting. But there are other ways of bailing. Like making it clear to the audience you think your scene partner's information is idiotic. Or starting an argument with your scene partner because you don't like where their information is going. Or just having no energy or enthusiasm for the scene, or your character, or the information. Any of these forms of bailing also make it impossible for the committed partner to make the scene work because, essentially, you've forced your partner to try to do improv alone. You're mocking the scene, or you're trying to steer the scene, but you're not playing with them in the scene.

I actually think commitment may be the easiest of the pillars to adhere to, once you make up your mind. Agreement and information both rely to a certain extent on your brain functioning properly while you're in a scene - and sometimes brains have a mind of their own. But commitment only requires, um, commitment. Just decide that, no matter what, you're not gonna leave your wingman. Then don't leave. Period.

Sorry, I have to leave. It's time to go watch Top Gun.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Great Improv Show!

By all accounts, Last Laugh Saturday last Saturday was "the best show H2G's ever done," "decent," "funny, but not as funny as Snow Globes," "f*ing brilliant," and/or "meh."

So what I'm saying is there is no such thing as "by all accounts" in improv.

What constitutes a great show, anyway? Is it a show in which the performers are funny and don't break any improv rules? (Good luck with that, by the way). Is it a show in which the performers are funny in spite of breaking the rules? Is it a show that the audience is into, regardless of the funniness and/or rule-breaking-ness of the performers?

These are not rhetorical questions, by the way. I really want to know.

A teacher once told me that you can't trust the audience because sometimes you can give 'em total crap and they love it, while other times you could do the best improv ever done and they'll be bored and Face Booking on their iPhones the whole time. That's because audiences, like other groups, have a mass mentality which occasionally has nothing to do with what's going on around them - like f*ing brilliant improv, for example.

So, what's an improvisor to do? First of all, have the intention to give the audience the best show you can. Then do improv the way you've been taught - and the way you know you can - to the best of your ability. When a scene works, enjoy it, but don't dwell on it because you have to be in the moment for your next scene. When a scene tanks, enjoy it, but don't dwell on it because you have to be in the moment for your next scene.

Yes, I said enjoy it when your scene tanks. Don't try to tank it, obviously. But when one does tank, just enjoy the badness of it. Enjoy the fact that, even though this scene sucks, you get to do improv. In front of an audience. Which may just be the awesomest thing ever. And as nearly as I can tell, what makes a good show is one in which the performers do their best not to break the rules, where they commit even (or perhaps especially) in scenes no one can save, and when they are so obviously having the time of their lives that the audience can't help but be drawn into the joy.

At least I think so.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Turn Off the Spew-o-Meter

Sorry for my absence. If you've been to the Held2gether website, you can see I've been busy posting new classes for 2012 and the last couple shows for 2011. So it's not as if I've just been sitting around twirling my hair or worrying about my fantasy football league or whatever it is you think I do.

Excuse me, but does anyone else find it disturbing that there are constantly Groupons for stuff like Botox and liposuction now?

Oh, and FYI, I so know who Howie Long is.

This gloom is making me feel gloomy myself. Like maybe I should dye my hair black and do my makeup like Elvira or something.

Right. I'm trying to make a point, and that point is not that I'm certifiably insane, thank you very much. My point is, only three-year-olds and stoners spew random information stream-of-consciousness style like this. As we learn social skills, which takes some of us much, much longer than others, we learn to filter our thoughts and exercise give-and-take in our conversations. We listen to people, and then we respond to what they said - with a logical rejoinder, not some random factoid that no one really cares about in this particular context.

I'm always yammering on about how improv classes can help in real-life situations. But this is a case where real life can help your improv. I've seen eleventy gazillion scenes where one person says something like, "Dammit, Frank, you're judging my potato-peeling skills again! I want a divorce." And for some reason, that information doesn't register in the other person's head and they say, "I'm thinking of getting liposuction on my knees, Jane."

Um, what?

Often the spew-o-meter keeps on spewing, too, adding random fact after random fact: "Besides liposuction, I'm also suffering from depression because I like to saw people in half and today I ate a jack-o-lantern."

It's virtually impossible to build a scene this way, because nothing relates to anything else, so nothing sticks and you essentially have two people spewing random stuff. Spewing randomness is typically a result of feeling panic in the scene. Luckily, there is a sure-fire cure for spewing, and that is to listen.

Just pretend that you and your scene partner are actual human beings having an actual conversation. If that were the case, you would listen to what they said and then reply to it. You might reply calmly, or you might have a big ol' emotional reaction to what they said, but it would be in response to what they said.

"Well, that's just fine, Jane! I can't be married to a woman who treats potatoes so sloppily anyway. I just wish I hadn't wasted the last 15 years with you and your lumpy mashed potatoes." Or, "What! No, you can't leave me! You're the only person who's worse than me at anything. Without you, I'll be the bottom of the barrel." Now your scene partner, who will also be pretending you are an actual human being, can listen and respond and the information will get layered nicely and a scene will develop.

I hope this has been helpful. I don't look like Celine Dion. For one thing, I'm blonde. Evidently my arms are not weirdly long. I want a cheesecake.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Friday, October 21, 2011

Long Beach Improv Show! And It's Free!

Tomorrow night! The LAST Last Laugh Saturday of 2011. Don't make Horsey mad... come see us!


Get there early if you want a seat and a chance to write weird sentences on slips of paper for Fishbowl - if you wait too long, Nate will write them all.

See ya tomorrow night!

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Improv & Running: Fear, Toenails and Sticking With It

I had an email conversation with Anonymous Friend the other day about some stuff. Her premise was that running and improv have many of the same benefits. I pshaw'd her because, as everyone knows, improv is the best thing ever and running makes my toenails fall off.

It's true. You should've heard the Vietnamese lady who did my pedicure with all my gross loose toenails after the 1/2 marathon last year. I couldn't understand the words, but her expression was clear: this girl should stick with improv.

Anyway, when Anonymous Friend got over the ickiness of my toenails, she had this to say:
If you weren’t born a natural runner, there are a lot of mental hurdles to climb before you lace on your first pair of running shoes. If you didn’t participate in sports growing up, you think there’s no way you can become a runner. Or if you’re overweight, you’re afraid of embarrassing yourself at the gym or getting laughed at by the drivers in the cars that pass you. But eventually you decide to stop listening to the naysayers and just do it. (Srew you, Phil Knight. I’m not paying you royalties for that.) And even when it hurts and even when you suck, you still keep going. I can’t decide which is more beautiful: when a person hits the wall yet refuses to quit, or the moment when that person chose to take that first step to begin with.

Alas, running hasn’t given me the ability to run 6-minute miles or a resting heartrate below 60 bpm. But it has taught me a stick-with-it-through-the-sucky-parts-because-it-will-get-better-eventually attitude, along with a belief that I can do anything if I stop being afraid. (The stop-being-afraid part is a little tricky.) Sounds kinda like improv to me. :-)

Those are some good points, AF. Obviously, there are many differences between running and improv, but the mental attitude AF is referring to is an important key. To succeed in improv or running, you have to let go of self-doubt and comparing yourself to others and worrying about what others think of you - in other words, stop being afraid. The classes that have been my worst have been the ones in which I felt intimidated by other students' talent, ability, hair, intact toenails, whatever. AF helped me realize that my goal for every class should be what my goal would be if I was running: courage to stick with it and be MY best, even when I hit the wall. Period. My goal should never have anything to do with the other people in a class, or a show or whatever (other than in terms of giving them my best in every scene).

So thanks, AF! (FYI, I still think improv is better. Besides the fact that improv doesn't harm my toenails, no one has ever said they're a big fan of my running.)

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

The Waggles Are Late!

So far I've written about 160 blog posts this year. I'm not looking for applause or anything; I'm only mentioning it because 160 ideas about how improv is like real life / the benefits of doing improv / how to get the most from improv classes is kind of a lot of ideas from someone whose ideas typically run the gamut from "I'm hungry" to "I'm starving."

Today, I'm fresh outta ideas. Luckily, being out of ideas is a subject that applies to improv. Ha. You thought I couldn't do it.

Sometimes, having no ideas is a good thing. After all, you don't want to have an agenda or a plan or a script - that's called writing, people. Writing is a great thing also; I happen to be rather fond of it myself. But it ain't improv. So having no ideas in improv can be beneficial in terms of having the freedom to react to your partner's actions and comments.

But sometimes having no ideas is a problem. Audience suggestions often have some tie-in to pop culture, which can be problematic if you don't know a Kardashian from a knish. Occasionally, your scene partner says something that you just have no clue how to respond to, like "The waggles are late for the popcorn treaty." Or perhaps it's been a long day, and the nuances of the English language elude you, making you want to respond to everything with "Ugh."

If you were writing and you had that problem, you could turn off the computer and come back another day. With improv, you don't have that luxury. You can't tell the audience, "Um, sorry, I don't know what Frank is talking about, so let's start over."

All you can do is stay in the moment, take a deep breath (or 2 or 10), make eye contact with your scene partner for as long as it takes and say something. Remember, you're in this together and your partner will help justify whatever you say or do. The most important thing is stop judging yourself and DO NOT BAIL. The audience wants you to win, and if you stay in it, you will. Honest.

If you do improv long enough, you'll have plenty of moments where you think you have nothing. But what you learn in improv is that, as long as all the players in the scene are committed, there are no mistakes. Sometimes the oddest bit of information (or non-information, as the case may be) turns out to be the thing that the whole scene turns on.

So don't give up. I just wrote 500 words about the fact that I have no ideas. If I can do that, you can come up with a response to, "The waggles are late for the popcorn treaty." Naturally, H2G improv classes are a great place to learn. In fact, I'm going to one just as soon as the sparkles finish fooding the nightmare.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Comfortable Discomfort

I'm writing this entry using Blogger's "new" interface. It's new to me, anyway; I don't really know how long it's existed because every time Blogger asks if I want to switch to the new Blogger interface I ignore the question and blog away as usual, pretending the new Blogger interface doesn't exist.

Oh, for the love of pizza, what is her point this time? Has she forgotten that this is supposed to be a blog about improv?

I'm gettin' there, hold your horses!

Like most people, I enjoy being comfortable. Being comfortable is, sorta by definition, comfy. It's nice and pleasant and, well, comforting. I know what to expect. I know how to behave. I don't feel stupid, because I've mastered what is contained in my comfort zone. Like the old Blogger interface.

The new one might be totally better. It might possess features that will delight and astound me. Or it could totally suck. The only thing that's for sure about the new Blogger interface is that it will be different from the old one.

Change is hard for most of us, to varying degrees. Some people adamantly resist new things, from technology to restaurants to TV shows. Some people embrace certain changes and eschew others. A few brave souls thrive on change and the unknown. I wanna be one of those people when I grow up.

Which brings me, finally, to improv class. Improv is 100% about the unknown. It forces you to be fully present in this moment and welcome whatever change comes at you with open arms. You absolutely never know what to expect because unless you are the Amazing Kreskin, you don't know what suggestions you'll get, what your scene partners will say or do, or how you'll react to those stimuli.

Playing in that gray area of not knowing what's coming is good training for being open to the constant changes life offers. It helps you learn to be comfortable, even with the inherent discomfort of change. And at Held2gether, the results will delight and astound you. Just like the new Blogger interface.

By Sonnjea Blackwell



Friday, October 14, 2011

Nerd Alert: Improv and Star Trek

I was quoting Star Trek: Wrath of Khan yesterday, partly to bug Nate but mostly because I was thinking about improv. I know, weird, right?

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one," is a good mantra if you want to be a strong improvisor.

In an improv scene, the scene is the most important thing and all the players, whether there are 2 or 20, have to keep that in mind at all times in order for the scene to be as successful as possible. The best thing to do is listen carefully and, in taking that moment of silence before you respond, ask yourself what the scene needs. Do we know where you are? Who you are? Why today's the big day?

You should always be looking for ways to build the scene. If you are looking for ways to get a laugh, you are putting the needs of the one (you) ahead of the many (the scene). It's not that there's no ego in improv - we wouldn't be on stage if we didn't have healthy egos, after all. It's just that what you're shooting for in improv is a sort of group ego trip, where we all get the biggest laughs and applause from creating something from nothing together.

There are so many reasons for this: first of all, no matter how funny or brilliant you think you are (and I'm not arguing with you; you're f*ing brilliant!), 2 (or 3 or 20) heads are better than one. You can't possibly think of all the interesting ways a scene might go all by yourself.

Secondly, the audience LOVES to see a whole bunch of people start with a vague suggestion and work together to create something no one could possibly have anticipated. The more people who are in on the building of the scene and agreeing implicitly to take it in this particular direction, the more in awe the audience becomes.

And third, if you're that person who is always going for the joke (ie, putting your need for a laugh ahead of the scene's need for information and agreement), the "many" are going to get pretty tired of playing with you. Ironically, you'll end up getting fewer laughs overall because your scene partners won't trust you and will build the scene without you as much as possible.

So I guess the moral of this story is, um, be like Spock.

There are no Held2gether improv shows this weekend, so feel free to watch Star Trek instead.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Thursday, October 13, 2011

You Have 3 Minutes! Make It Good!

I try not to let little details like world events color my perspective for these blog posts. Economy sucks? Do improv! Gas costs 387 bucks a gallon? Do improv! It's 100+ degrees in the middle of October? Do improv!

It's not that I think improv is the solution for all the world's ills, necessarily. I mean, it seems unlikely that my playing "Yes, and" for a couple of hours will really do much to alter the course of climate change one way or the other.

It's more along the lines of, life's a tough place. Doing something that makes you (and other people) happy for a few hours a week shouldn't really be looked at as a luxury in the crazy world we live in. There's something extremely therapeutic about acting out the things you would like to say to your dumb-ass boss, or channeling a character based on some horrible person from your past or just getting to jump around and be silly... without relying on booze and without being mocked for it. Everybody needs some kind of outlet.

And beyond that, life is short, peeps. Way too short, most of the time. Going along in a rut, or waiting to try something creative or edgy or different "sometime," or living with your fears because you figure there'll be time to find courage later are recipes for regret. Tomorrow is not a guarantee.

Improv scenes are 3 minutes long, and you have to get out the beginning, middle and end, make it make sense and hope that it'll be funny and make people happy. When you think about it, life is pretty much the same thing.

Want to learn to live in the moment and make the absolute most of each one? Held2gether Improv classes really can teach you that.

You're on your own with the price of gas, though. (Though if you believe hard enough, maybe you can channel a unicorn or two to give you a ride now and then. It works for me.)

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

4 x 3 = Improv

I don't know about you, but I don't remember learning how to walk. I'm pretty sure I must have learned at some point... I mean, I can walk, and I don't think I was born with the ability, so I have cleverly deduced that walking is a learned skill.

On the other hand, I clearly (and painfully) remember learning my multiplication tables. It started with learning the concept of what multiplying was, then by learning the rules of multiplication. Then there were a lot of tears, followed by some memorization. Finally, at some point, I realized I knew how to multiply and could do it without thinking about all those concepts and rules - and mostly without the tears.

Lisa has pointed out my stunning predictability, so you know where this is going, I'm sure.

Well, predictable or not, it's true... it's the same with improv comedy. There are concepts and a whole boatload of rules, notions that surprise many people. The seeming effortlessness of improv is created when players know the rules and play by them.

And, as with multiplying and perhaps walking, improv-ing requires a lot of study and practice and concentration to get the rules down, and sometimes that makes scenes anything BUT effortless. So many of us get caught up in the "I have to agree, but I also have to have a big emotional reaction, and I have to play it real, but I can't be argumentative, and and and..." until pretty soon everybody's head explodes in a big ol' slimy mess on the stage. Sometimes there are a lot of tears (okay, that may just be me; I have issues).

But then one day, everything clicks. You're doing a scene and you're 100% in it and you're not thinking about the rules or anything other than what your partner is saying. And you get done and obviously get a great critique because you were so on, and you think, "Wow. Why did that ever seem so hard?" You've learned the rules so well that you apply them automatically without conscious thought, just like walking or calculating the waiter's tip.

Yay you! That is a day you'll probably always remember. Not to be a downer, but here's something else you should remember: Just like there are days where you trip over your own feet for no good reason or mistakenly leave the waiter an 8.6% tip because you mangled the math, there will be days when the improv rules will elude you and you'll struggle again. But you don't give up walking or eating out just because you have an off day, so don't give up on improv either!

Want to learn the rules of improv? Take a Held2gether improv class! The walking is minimal and there's no multiplying. Promise.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Monday, October 10, 2011

Improv vs. Marathons

I didn't run in the Long Beach Half-Marathon yesterday. For one thing, I didn't train for it this year. And b, there was an Intro to Improv workshop. I have priorities, you know.

I can totally run a half-marathon, FYI. I did it last year and finished in a very respectable 2:28:46. And I will definitely run another 1/2 someday, because I think I'll probably need an excuse for eating many angel food cakes at some point and running a lot provides me with that.

But it's safe to say I won't run a half-marathon on a day that coincides with an improv class. And I'ma tell you why, because... well, because.

At the race last year, there were lots of people lined up at different points of the route, shouting encouragement to their friends and to random strangers. That was very cool and naturally we fed off their energy. Sometimes we literally fed off them, as with the totally awesome people who stood on a corner and handed out donut holes. And we had friends come out and cheer us on with signs and balloons and loudness, and that totally rocked too.

But there are two reasons the improv workshop yesterday was even better than that. First of all, there were people in the class who were trying improv for the first time and loving it. And seeing the benefit of it. And struggling with it. And all those wonderful things that improv elicits from people who have never tried anything like it before. I swear, I will never get tired of seeing people fall in love with improv.

And secondly, a couple people told me they were big fans. Of me. Too soon to tell, but I'm pretty sure I'll never get tired of that, either.

So while the half-marathon has its advantages (mostly pertaining to angel food cake and donut holes), I'm going to go with the emotionally uplifting and ego-building qualities of improv classes. Cuz, you know. That's just how I roll, people.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Friday, October 7, 2011

The "Right" Way to Do Improv

There are many different schools and styles of improv, and there is no one "right" way of doing it.

(Held2gether improv is the "right" way of doing it.)

That being said, there are a few core tenets that make up all improv, and we've talked about them before: agreement, information and commitment.

Darren and I are just about polar opposites in our natural skill sets: he is all about commitment, big energy and emotion; I am the calm, cool, collected Queen of Information. So if you put the two of us together, you'd have one perfect improvisor.

At least we agree on agreement.

Recently, we've each come to appreciate the others' strengths even more. Taking classes at a place that does very different improv (ie, not the "right" way), I've seen firsthand how B-O-R-I-N-G scenes without big energy and emotion are. Oh. Friggin' yay - two people talking. Yawn-o-rooni. So, along with the determination I've made to be more charactery and bigger and all that for my own personal reasons, I really see the need for it if I want to perform the "right" kind of improv.

And because Held2gether improv classes are designed for everyone, not just actor-y types, some of the shyer, more inhibited people like to see a quieter, less over-the-top performer such as myself who can still "bring the funny," to quote Andy, Co-Dependent.

What really makes improv amazing, is that all the players have their own strengths and putting them together makes the whole greater than the sum of the parts. It's true. Even when I'm one of the "parts."

See y'all tonight at The Many Faces of Frank!


By Sonnjea Blackwell

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

I Accept!

It's raining.

No, really. It's definitely raining.

Sometimes improv students get confused by the concept of agreement. That whole "yes, and" thing can be complicated to understand, and students confuse themselves when they know they should have a normal big emotional reaction to something - but it seems like doing so would not be agreeing.

Naturally, you have to agree with what your partner has laid out in the scene. But that doesn't mean you have to like it. If Andy, Co-Dependent tells me I am a lazy slut, my response can't be, "No, I'm not." That is a flat-out denial. But I can say, "I hate you for always pointing out my shortcomings!" or "You're the meanest boss I've ever had" or "Yes, and I slept with your brother before you got here."

In the improv sense, agreement could be better defined as acceptance. You accept the FACT of what your partner has said. It is absolutely true. But your character doesn't have to agree to go along with their character's behavior. If they've said they like to eat puppies for breakfast, you can certainly play it real and totally freak out about eating puppies. Hating what your scene partner has created is not the same thing as denying it.

So just like in improv, I have to accept the fact that it's raining. But I sure as heck don't have to like it.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

The Sound of Silence

Sssshhhhhhhhhhhh!

You know that saying silence is golden? That's a polite way of saying, Shut the hell up.

Of course, I would never say something so rude. But the premise definitely applies in improv, and I for one encourage everyone to embrace it.

There's this natural tendency on stage to want to fill up all the empty space with words. Players panic and vomit information, or they think it's some kind of race and they have to begin their line within a nanosecond of their scene partner completing their line.

Relax. Take a breath.

In real life, we don't talk that way. Sure, in some circumstances, folks get excited and jabber on or talk over each other. But when I'm having a serious conversation and someone says something to me like, "I have a confession, Sonnjea. I only eat palm fronds, and I think you should also," it takes me a couple seconds to digest that information (no pun intended) and a couple more to formulate a response that doesn't sound snarky.

Feel free to take that same time in improv. The audience isn't judging you on speed, after all. They want to see the scene played for real, and in real life we aren't terrified of silence. Silence on stage is not boring. Tension builds during the silence, drawing the audience in as they wonder what they heck you're going to say. If your improv conversation is all wham, bam, thank you, ma'am, there's no suspense or tension or build in the scene and it's actually less satisfying to the audience and more stressful for you.

So give yourself the gift of truly listening and taking in the information that's given to you instead of feeling compelled to pounce on every line.

Or, as I like to say, shut the hell up.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Monday, October 3, 2011

Improv Events In Long Beach

I promise to write something profound tomorrow, but for today, I just have to remind you of three important improv events coming up SOON!

First of all, this Friday happens to be the First Friday of the month, and we are performing a free improv show at Elise's Tea Room in the LBC, with some special guests you've never met before! Come check 'em out!


Then, on Sunday October 9th, we're doing the Intro to Improv 1/2 day workshop at the EXPO Arts Center in Bixby Knolls. This class has turned into a really awesome 4-hour improv extravaganza for people who have never tried it, people who need a refresher and people who just love to practice improv whenever they can. If you've never done improv, don't worry - it's not intimidating at all. The people who have a little experience are super humble and just eager to get as much practice at the basics as possible and are incredibly encouraging. After all, we all remember our first improv class, and we want yours to be just as fun!


And finally, for those of you ready to commit, the new 6-week Intro to Improv Comedy class begins on Saturday, October 15th. There are a couple spaces left, but don't wait long - this is the last class of 2011, and it's going to fill up. If you miss this one, you'll have to wait until 2012 to try improv! So register now and avoid all that sadness of missing out.


I'll be at all of these, and I hope to see you there!

By Sonnjea Blackwell