Yep, You Had to Be There

My brain is toast. It's been a long week of thinking and working hard, and I'm all epiphanied out. So instead of nuggets of improv-y wisdom, today I'll just leave you with some highlights of stuff that happened in various classes this week:

Tracy: I can't eat pork, it's Yom Kippur!
Leon: So? We've been out of Jewish for 10 years.

Antonio: It's against regulations to share personal information. Zodiac stuff is ok.

Kevin: This ain't for sale.

Emily: I showed my friends. They said it's just a rash.

Michelle: Call 1-800-555-Eat-Poison.

Richard: Do it!!

Aimee: I don't have fancy cocktails glasses.
Barbi: Well, what kind do you have?
Aimee: I have sippy cups.

Suzanne: I'm Detroit. I will fuck you up.

I know. You had to be there. But thinking about the scenes those lines came from still makes me giggle. I guess you'll have to take my word for it. Or you could sign up for an improv class of your own and see what all the giggling is about. New classes start in October!

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Mix Up Your Improv Muscles

I had an epiphany literally 13.5 seconds ago, and now I am all aflutter to share that epiphany with you. You're welcome.

Lately, everyone in the brand-new Held2gether Level 3 improv class seems to have really broken through some obstacles and taken their improv to a whole new level. Most of us have been in classes together on and off for anywhere from 6 months to 3.5 years, and certainly I have seen tremendous progress over that time period, in myself and in my classmates. So this current leap isn't entirely a new concept; however, it's unique in that it seems to be applicable across the board. So it's not like I'm having a breakthrough while somebody else is struggly. It's like we're ALL on the upswing.

And I have figured out why. No, really.

It's because Darren has started giving us a bunch of new exercises. They're not really any harder than what we've been doing throughout our time in Level 2, and they don't actually introduce new skills or concepts. They're just different. And that's all it took.

You know how when you exercise, you're supposed to mix up your workouts to keep your muscles from getting used to a set routine and to help get better overall results? It's like that. We were starting to know what exercises to expect in each week of class. So even if it wasn't a conscious decision, there was an element of "oh, I gotta remember to have big emotion tonight" or "yep, gonna be justifying stuff today, better be ready to think." Without noticing it, our improv muscles were getting lazy and complacent. Now, we have no idea what's coming next. Our improv muscles are confused and can't predict what they're going to have to do in any given class. So we're ready to bring everything, rather than just trot out a particular skill.

I suppose I could explain how the same is true in real life - how you can have a better overall experience by not doing the same ol' thing, day in and day out, and how you can get more out of everything by pushing yourself in new and different ways. Oh. Looks like I just did. Guess that's just how I roll.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Let's Get Physical

It occurred to me that one thing I've never really written about here is physicality in improv. My bad. It's definitely time to get physical.

Whether it's changing your physical appearance and posture, moving around the stage, or literally getting physical with your scene partners, physicality is an important component of improv that gets overlooked sometimes. But in terms of committing fully to a character and an emotion, physicality can often be the part that makes it all believable.

If your character is angry, we want to see that anger throughout your body - not just in your face or your words. We want the clenched fists, the aggressive stance, we want it all. If you're in a war, we want to see you lugging a rifle or creeping across the stage on your belly. If you're having an intense exchange with your partner, we want you to touch each other the way people do in whatever that situation is: have a shoving match, stroke their hair, grab their arm.

It makes sense to most people that in order to be a different character, they would stand differently. But that also means they will walk (or shuffle, or crawl, or dance or whatever) differently. They'll talk differently. This week, I saw amazing commitment in both Level 1 improv classes, and part of what elevated the commitment to the realm of "amazing" was the bold physicality people embraced.

And yes, I realize you have to have a lot of trust in order to hang all over your scene partner or fling your entire body at them in a Dirty Dancing attempt at a lift. At Held2gether, we do our best to create an encouraging, safe, supportive environment that helps build trust between students and allows them to push themselves out of the comfort zone of "normal" physicality.

Because you know what? Normal is totally overrated. Just sayin'.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Let's Talk About Shutting Up

My friend and troupemate Richard Bojorquez asked me to write about the art of shutting up, and I think shutting up is really something that can't be talked about too much. So I'm happy to oblige.

In improv, there is a tendency to rush to fill every gap in dialogue with more dialogue. It's natural; there is something inherently scary about dead air, and improvisers are often fearful of boring their audience with "nothingness." But their mistake is in thinking that silence is "nothingness."

Think of all the powerful things that can be conveyed in silence. Your expression, your body language, your anger/joy/despair/whatever all have a chance to emerge and percolate and grow if you aren't rushing to speak. Stare down your opponent. Gaze at your partner with awe. Let your face crumple with grief. There is so much power in NOT speaking, and it gives the audience a chance to catch up with you and be with you in that moment of transition. It also gives YOU a chance to let something matter and to decide what to say and do next.

In real life, we don't rush to fill those gaps. If we need to take a moment to formulate our thoughts, we do so without freaking out. Of course, in improv you need trust in order to be comfortable with silence: you have to trust that you will know what to say when it's time to say it, you have to trust your scene partner to also be comfortable with the silence and not talk over it, and you have to trust the intelligence of the audience to be willing to let you play the scene for real.

Aimee and I did a scene in a show where I labeled her character as having trouble spitting out a sentence. She could've argued the point, and I could've belabored it. But instead, I said it and she listened and we waited - and that extra silence was hilarious AND proved my character's point about her character's inability to speak well.

By taking that time, you build the excitement and suspense, and the audience loves that intensity. Just blabbing constantly takes away the mystery and speeds everything up too much - so even when the scene is hilarious, it's not as satisfying as it could have been (for the players OR for the audience.)

Like everything else in improv (and life), being comfortable with silence takes practice. But when you get the hang of it, you'll see how cool it is and how much it adds to your scenes. Less really is more sometimes.

Except when it comes to food. Then less is just less, and I do not approve.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Improv Performance Anxiety

All right. If the handcuffs thing is any indication, I tell you all everything anyway, so I might as well share my latest reason for being all angsty: It's performing in improv shows where the majority of the audience is students. You know. Improv students. Whom I teach.

That's a lot of pressure. I mean, there's pressure whenever I perform anyway because I always want to do the best improv I can and give the audience a great show. But when the audience is made up of students, there are different levels of pressure. Sure, I'll enumerate them for you. Duh. That's how I roll, people.

1. Students who have been taking classes for awhile know the rules of improv by now. I don't want to be one of those "do as I say, not as I do" people, so I'm extra conscious of the rules when I perform. That's silly and puts undue pressure on myself because I'm not much of an improv rule breaker in the first place: I don't ask questions or go for the joke, I'm not sarcastic (no, really), and I never deny. I'd be better off not worrying about the rules and just focusing on being in the moment and making everything matter. Duh.
2. Students who are pretty new and don't know the rules yet still have the notion that whoever gets the biggest laughs must have done the best improv. Not true, and yet when new students are present I feel pressure to "be funny." That's like, I dunno, death in an improv scene. My job as an improviser is to give my partner the best information and emotional reactions I can to build a scene. Someone has to be the straight person in a scene, and I happen to be a really good straight person. That means the other person often gets the bigger laughs. So what? Did the scene work? Then I did my job.
3. Students who have signed up and haven't had any classes yet sometimes watch the performers and assume whoever had the best show must be the best teacher. This is wrong on a couple fronts. First, any given night any of my troupemates may have the "best" show, because we're all good improvisers (although when the show really works is when the audience can't pinpoint who was the best because we all worked together seamlessly as a cohesive unit.) Second, teaching a skill is not the same as doing it. Whether or not I have an awesome show doesn't alter the fact that I understand improv and how to teach it to others and help them get better at it. Third, none of my troupemates currently teaches improv classes, so that automatically gives me a leg up. LOL.

Don't get me wrong: I love to perform, and I love that our students come out to see our shows. I just have a little performance anxiety at the moment is all. So, uh, thanks for letting me give myself a public pep talk here. Anyway, if I can remember what I tell my students (namely to be in the moment, let go of trying to be funny and just commit), then I will do awesome improv and have nothing to feel anxious about.

I hate it when I have to take my own advice.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

I Don't Mind Handcuffs

This was labeling week in the Held2gether Level 1 improv classes, and we spent some time talking about the awesomeness of loser labels. Naturally, I explained that you want to embrace those labels rather than defend yourself against them, as you might in real life. In fact, any label that gives you specific character traits that you can run with is a HUGE gift and should be relished!

Later on, I was critiquing an exercise in which someone had labeled someone else as carrying handcuffs. The label didn't quite work with what had preceded it, and I wanted to explain why. So I started my sentence with, "I don't mind handcuffs..." then I trailed off a bit to formulate the rest of my thought.

The class didn't wait to find out what the rest of the thought was. They got a huge kick out of my half-sentence and joked about me labeling myself and how popular I must be and whatever. I was embarrassed (complete with blushing), but I took my own improv advice and didn't argue against the handcuffs label.

Obviously, in class I need to explain improv concepts intelligently and demonstrate skills clearly. But improv class is about doing stuff that pushes you out of your comfort zone and often that means students feel embarrassed when they try things - so why shouldn't they get to see me be embarrassed once in awhile too?

There's no real point to this post, except to say that embarrassing yourself with a bunch of awesome people in an H2G improv class is about the most fun you can have. You know, without handcuffs.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

It's All Fun and Games till Someone Doesn't Pick Up on the Sarcasm

Sometimes I have been known to be a wee bit sarcastic. No, really. I know that probably comes as a shock to three of you, but it's true. It's not a particularly great trait in real life, and it's a downright bad trait in improv. Here's why:

And there's always a 99% chance that someone won't pick up on the sarcasm. It's not because they're dumb, either. It's because when you're sarcastic, you are a) saying the opposite of what you mean, b) being subtle and/or c) being snarky to the person you're talking to (or about).

In real life, it can be difficult to figure out if someone is being sarcastic or not when they say the opposite of what they mean. Add to that inherent difficulty the stress of trying to create a scene out of thin air with another person (or people) who have their own ideas, and there's an excellent chance somebody will not pick up on the sarcasm. Then you have at least one person doing the scene based on what you literally said, and at least one person doing the scene based on the opposite of that. Ugh. Even if all the players "get it," there's still an excellent chance many people in the audience will have missed the sarcasm. So in improv, we don't say the opposite of what we mean. We just say what we mean and call everything out in no uncertain terms.

In improv, we also don't do subtle; there just isn't time. You have a few short minutes to complete an entire scene, so you have to put everything right out there for the audience and your scene partner to see. Being coy or subtle often requires your scene partner to guess at what you mean and usually takes 3 or 4 lines to get out what could have been said in 1. Just get there! The other problem with subtle is it can frequently lead to casual, and casual is another thing that doesn't work in improv. Everything has to matter. A LOT!! Big and bold is a much better choice than subtle and casual.

Finally, don't waste effort being snarky. Be enraged, furious, devastated, homicidal, disgusted or downright hateful. Snarky is a "kinda" emotion (ie, kinda bitchy, kinda mad, kinda irritated) and there's no kinda in improv.

If you're always thinking in terms of making choices that GIVE your partner something solid to work with, you'll see right away that sarcasm isn't gonna be the optimal choice. In improv, I mean.

Oh, all right. In life, too.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Improv: What's the Point?

Sometimes I have trouble figuring out what to write about for these posts. I mean, it's not like improv, where a bunch of people shout out suggestions at me and I can just pick one and run with it. Nope. It's just me and Koji, and although Koji occasionally comes into my office and stares at me, I don't actually find that overly helpful.

And it's not like it's 2005 and blogs are the coolest thing EVER and people will read anything I write just because it's a friggin' blog.

So every once in a while, I think, "Eh. What's the point?" Like this morning, for example.

Which reminds me. In the Level 1 improv class Saturday, we were doing a labeling exercise. After I described the exercise and demonstrated it and one group actually did it, a lady raised her hand and asked, "Uh, what's the point of this exercise?"

She wasn't being rude or suggesting the exercise was a waste of her time. She meant, "What are the broader implications of the labeling skills we are learning in this exercise as applied to improv scenes in general?"

I love that question. Although I give a short explanation before each exercise about the skill set it addresses, until students have done actual improv scenes, the importance of particular skills remains unclear. Without that frame of reference of performing a scene, the need for labels or agreement or not asking questions can seem mysterious. So asking what's the point or WHY are we doing this lets me know they are thinking about the bigger picture and are ready to put the next piece of the puzzle into place. I could explain the why of every skill and every aspect of an exercise before the students do it, but often doing it is what gets their brains ready for understanding it.

So, uh, that's the point of writing this blog, I guess. Just like performing an improv scene, teaching improv involves layering information rather than just vomiting all the information out at once. So sometimes I might write about agreement. Sometimes, about not being jokey. Other times, about my muscles. Because there's always another layer of information that people will be able to take in when they're ready.

Still, suggestions wouldn't hurt. So if you have a topic you want me to elaborate on, ask me in the comments or on FB and I'll do my best to address it. And if it's about improv, even better.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Not Such Glittery Wonderfulness

Last night in the Held2gether Level 3 improv class, we did a bunch of character work. If you've read this blog more than a handful of times, you know that characters are not my forté, so let's just say this wasn't one of those classes where I moseyed onstage and glittery wonderfulness flowed from me and people laughed uproariously at everything I said and did.

Nope. More like, whatever is the opposite of glittery wonderfulness followed me around like that cloud of dirt that follows Pigpen. I have a tendency to do things really fast - I talk fast, I move my arms fast and did I mention I talk fast? Anyway, I was challenging myself to take on characters that were slower. Unfortunately, coupled with my natural speediness, I also have a natural casualness. So although I may talk fast, I don't talk with any particular intensity. The character I came up with for one exercise was slower, but she had no intensity or point of view and so she came across as generally bitchy but in a low energy way. IT WAS TERRIBLE.

I'm not falsely modest, so you can be assured that if I say it was terrible, it was. But I was really actually happy about it, because I tried something that was so different and hard for me that I couldn't quite figure it out - AND I stuck with it to the very end of the scene (sorry again, Bill).

My second outing fared slightly better because I tried to just slow down a perky type of character. So the energy was there, and yet she wasn't super fast. It worked, but it wasn't much of a departure for me since the physicality and the tone of voice were essentially mine. I did manage to slow down the flapping hands, though. So it was a step towards what I was going for. You know, a really small, stumbly step.

The good news about being me is that I also take the Level 3 class on Friday mornings. So with last night's debacle still fresh in my mind, along with the helpful notes Darren gave me, I tried again to do a slower character - but I made sure to give her a strong point of view and some intensity to up the energy level and the stakes. I had a different voice - deeper and slower than my real voice - and kind of chest-out, alpha posture.

This was nowhere near the best, most interesting character in the history of improv. Or even in the history of today's improv class. But it illustrates my point, which is that failing big by trying something hard is the only way to learn. And the entire point of improv class is to LEARN. You can show off on your own time; class is about doing the stuff you're NOT already good at and about helping your classmates do the same by giving them 100% commitment and support every time.

And just to be clear, the only way to actually fail in an improv class is to not commit. Give it your all and, whether it technically "works" or not, you've succeeded.

You know. Like life.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

I Like Your Hair. You Can Be My Friend.

I posted a "Happy Monday" post on FB today, and somebody asked what was wrong with me. It's a fair question, and one that I get a lot. In this case, however, I would argue that there's nothing wrong with me.

I know that's gonna require some explanation, so hang on while I get my thoughts in order...

See, I was thinking about improv and kids. Not kids doing improv, which is something I encourage but is not something I'm speaking about at the moment. I was thinking that kids, until they go to school anyway, totally grasp being in the moment.

They don't pre-plan what they're gonna say - when they want a cookie, they just announce they want a friggin' cookie. When someone speaks to them, they respond to what that person just said, with whatever response comes to them and without editing it and censoring it to death. When they don't like what someone says or does to them, they have a HUGE emotional reaction - again, without self-censoring.

Hmmmmm....

Of course, I'm not saying we want to play kids in improv scenes. What I'm suggesting is that we might considering playing like kids in improv scenes. You can totally start a scene with, "LOOK BILLY!! I finished the report!! Yay!! Woohoo!" with high-fives all around. You can respond to your partner with foot stomping, pouting and a teary, "But I HATE spending the holidays with your family." You can walk right up to your scene partner and stroke their hair and say, "I like your hair. You can be my friend."

Anyway, the Happy Monday post was what made me think about being in the moment. Sure, if I think ahead to the busy week, maybe I'll freak out; but if I just focus on the fact that I woke up this morning and now I get to write some stuff, of course it's a happy Monday. And then I thought about how easy it is for toddlers to do squats. And then that made me think that toddlers don't care if it's Monday when they do their squats and ta-da! Here we are.

Now I'm gonna have a cookie. Because all this talk about doing squats has made me hungry, and that's just how I roll.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Eye Contact and Unicorn Magic

A brand-new Held2gether improv class started today, which I swear is always even more exciting for me than it is for the students.

It's not because I have a boring life, either. I have a very exciting life. This week, for example, I did handstands without help. I mean, come on! That's living on the edge, people.

Anyway, let me explain why I'm excited by a new class (as if you really have a choice). It's because I love to see people start off a little unsure - sometimes even downright terrified - and morph into having a great time... while they're learning stuff.

It's also because I see things in new groups of people that reinforce my understanding of improv and deepen it in the way only beginners can. For example, in a "yes, and" exercise today, I saw the best example of the importance of eye contact I've ever seen. When the exercise got a little struggly, both participants just stayed in it and made good, solid (though not creepy) eye contact with each other, which calmed them down and helped them get right back on track. I've seen it before, a million times, but this was just such a clear example because there was nothing else going on in the exercise that could account for the renewed calm and ability to move forward.

Eye contact is a skill whose importance can't be overstated in improv (and in life, really), and yet it's difficult to communicate the why behind it. Largely because it's controlled by unicorn magic. When you are in your head, stuck, confused, unsure, self-conscious, whatever, eye contact WILL help. Not just CAN help. WILL.

When you make eye contact with your partner, you're communicating non-verbally; you're putting your trust in them and allowing them to trust you. You are making a conscious choice to get on the same page, work together as a team and surrender your agenda. And when you do all that, the unicorns are happy and they reward you with a hilarious scene.

And that, my friends, is the secret of improv. You're welcome.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

ADHD, Anyone?

Boy, do I need an improv class tonight! Luckily, I get to have one. And another tomorrow morning. Yay for me!

Even though improv has taught me so much about being in the moment and just staying present and focused on the one thing I'm doing at any given moment, some days I'm still like the poster child for ADHD or something. Today is that day.

It's one of those weeks where I had big stuff to do - like deadlines and whatnot - for ALL of the various jobs I have. And none of those things played along with the pre-planning and agenda-ing I had done. Servers being down on the other side of the world interfered with my idea of what I thought I would do and when, which meant I had to adapt. People giving me misinformation about meeting times meant I had to adapt. The bloody f*ing heat meant I had to adapt.

That's all well and good, up to a point. I have also learned in improv how to adapt and go with the flow, and that portion of my training kicked in just swell and I flowed from one thing to the next if not effortlessly, at least successfully.

But for the life of me, I couldn't just be in the moment. Because of the constant adapting, I was running through 8 gazillion scenarios in my head of what I would do to make up for snafu #31, for example, and I didn't put proper attention on the task I was currently involved with. Three separate times today, I went the wrong way on the way to places I've been literally hundreds of times. I was thinking about what I was going to do after that particular errand and missed my exit, turned the wrong way or just plain drove right past my destination. Did I mention three times? Jeez.

Anyway, it's all good. All the whatnots got dealt with, I didn't get permanently lost and I see the humor in my folly. But I also see that the week would've been a lot more enjoyable and a lot less stressful if I hadn't let myself spin out, and that makes me want to work harder at just being in the moment.

So I will. You can, too, if you want. I won't make you, though - I wouldn't want to force my agenda.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Back to School Specials

It's back-to-school week in my world! First of all, our free improv show Friday night is called Back to School Special. See?

And second, the Level 1 improv classes start Saturday and Tuesday. Yay!

I've always loved back to school time, partly because of the new clothes I would get and partly because I'm a dork who always loved school. Now I love it even more because it's new clothes and IMPROV school. Uh, hello? Awesomeness.

Anyway, as I'm sure you can tell, I don't have a lot to say today. Actually, the truth is, I have LOT to say - but it has to do with the fact that the servers handling the work I absolutely MUST upload today to meet a big deadline are down, stymying my efforts to work. And, more importantly, to get paid. Argh. But as my improv skills have taught me time and time again, all I can do is be in the moment. Which means making a list of all the back to school clothes I need.

What? You don't want me to be wearing last season's improv-wear, do you? So tacky, jeez.

By Sonnjea Blackwell