Synchronized Swimming vs. Improv

Back in the day, I did synchronized swimming. It's not that this is a deep, dark secret of mine, but it's not usually the topic of conversation and, to be honest, it's not something I really think about. Ever.

But since it came up at the Held2gether troupe shindig last Sunday, I figured I might as well run with it. Or, uh, swim with it, as the case may be.

According to Wikipedia, "Synchronized swimming demands advanced water skills, and requires great strength, endurance, flexibility, grace, artistry and precise timing, as well as exceptional breath control when upside down underwater." I don't care what they say, I still can't believe it's a friggin' Olympic sport. Mainly cuz it's not a sport. But I digress.

The main reason I liked synchronized swimming is because I grew up in a place with average summer temperatures akin to Hell, and the pool was the best place to be. Some other reasons included:

1. I could hold my breath for a couple minutes, and I liked to show off.
2. From the bleachers, nobody in the audience can distinguish the swimmers, so if you screw up, they can't prove it was you.
3. Since you can't hear the music underwater, you just have to count to keep in sync. I can't follow music to save my life, but I am pretty proficient in counting.
4. Did I mention I grew up in Hell?

The only thing synchronized swimming and improv have in common, as far as I can tell, is that they're both group activities that rely on all the players being in sync. (Hence the "synchronized" part of "synchronized swimming.") Let's compare, shall we?

Synchro	Improv
Totally pre-planned and choreographed	Created in the moment
Matching costumes	Regular clothes
In a swimming pool	On a stage or in a coffee house, bar or living room
Everyone does the same thing	Everyone creates a different character
No speaking	Speaking
Holding your breath is important	Holding your breath is bad
Mildly entertaining to do, boring to watch	Incredibly challenging and fun to do, hilarious to watch

And now you know the differences between synchronized swimming and improv. You're welcome.


By Sonnjea Blackwell

Improv: Don't Be Judgy

Sometimes in improv classes, a student's brain will lock up and they'll freak out, panic, flap their hands and shake their head while wailing in distress, "But I can't think of anything!"

I totally understand. As a matter of fact, I'm flapping my hands right now.

I have two things to say on this subject. LOL! As if. I never have only two things to say on any subject. But we'll start with two and see where this goes...

First of all, improv is just like any other muscle. At first, you may be weak and out of shape and unable to think of anything. But the more you work out, the stronger your improv muscles become and soon you are able to think of something almost all the time. Yay you!

And b: You can think of something, even when you think you can't. It's your brain's built-in mechanism for self-preservation that makes you think you can't think of anything. It's your defense against feeling foolish, actually, the self-censoring part of yourself that judges things before it lets them come out of your mouth.

Probably most people have a desire NOT to look stupid or make a fool of themselves, to some degree or other. Some people have learned that the only way to really get better at stuff in life is to be willing to look foolish. I mean, we weren't born knowing everything, and sometimes in the process of learning stuff we end up looking foolish. Um, so what?

In improv, as in life, you absolutely must be willing to look foolish if you want to improve. That means you have to tell your inner censor to shut the hell up, and then just say whatever pops into your head. Sure, sometimes you know nothing about the suggestion you get. I mean, I don't know about you, but I'm completely clueless when it comes to rebuilding carburetors. But in my imagination, they have screws and valves and gaskets and grommets, and that's what I'm gonna say, totally unabashedly. The judgy part of my brain is already arguing that grommets aren't part of carburetors, but I DON'T CARE. That part of my brain isn't the part that's good at improv, or learning new stuff of any kind, and all it does is take the fun out of things.

Since I'm all about getting better at improv and life, and having as much fun as possible doing it, the judgy part of my brain doesn't get a vote. It took some (okay, a LOT) of effort at the beginning to let go of that part. I have a very strong desire not to look foolish, if you wanna know the truth. But I learned that I almost never look as foolish as I feared I would look, and on the rare occasions I really do look that silly... nothing bad happens. I feel silly for a few minutes, I get embarrassed, I might blush, once in a while I may cry. For pete's sake, NOBODY DIES.

I can virtually guarantee that you will not die if you say something that makes no sense in improv. And when you learn to let go of that judgy, self-censoring inner critic that keeps you from trying new things for fear of failure and/or looking foolish, you will discover a whole world of cool stuff to try, people to get to know and successes just waiting to be had. Please don't miss out just because you're too busy judging yourself. That would totally suck. Just sayin'.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Improv Ingredient Labels

Tonight's level 1 improv class is going to focus on spacework and labeling, one of which is my favorite thing to do.

Yeah, if you've seen me do spacework, it's clear that labeling is my favorite thing to do. Whatev.

You know the ingredient labels on food? Well, you have to have those labels to know what you're eating, right? Same with improv labels: you have to have labels to know what you're doing!

Once the foundations are out - who, what, where and relationships - it's crucial to add labels. Just because we're brother and sister, doesn't mean we really know anything about these people. But when you add labels, you not only learn more about the characters, but you give yourselves information that you can build a scene on. Without labels, you're just ordinary people, and nobody wants to watch ordinary people.

Labels can be descriptions of anything from what you or your scene partner are wearing, to how you behave, to what your point of view is. If I wear overalls all the time, and my brother wears 3 piece suits, you can probably assume we're going to differ on other important issues as well - and it's fun to discover what those are.

Remember when you're giving labels, it's best to give specific labels about behavior or point of view or appearance. "You're a loser" is a judgement and besides that, it's vague. "Loser" means too many things to people, so being specific is a much stronger choice. "You've never held a job for longer than 3 months" or "You have chronic BO and only 3 teeth" or "You think relationships will cut into your model-boat-building time" give a person something to work with, and help them develop their character's point of view.

When you get a label, take that characteristic on to the best of your ability! Always try to use your labels to help develop your point of view. Just being generally ugly is okay, but it doesn't make a character. However, if your point of view is that you know you're ugly, so you overcompensate by always trying to help your friends find great bargains, that can be a funny character.

Point of view confuses a lot of people, but it is essentially how does this character see the world and their place in it? Think about what this character would want, and how they would go about getting it. A hoity-toity princess will acquire what she wants in a totally different way than a socially awkward computer geek... and if for some reason they are together in a scene, even better!

Now, since I'm a socially awkward improv geek, I have to go and practice yes, anding myself in the mirror. What? You know that's how I roll, peeps.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

3 Levels of Funny

Last night was the first class of a new Improv Comedy Level 1 class brought to you by the nice folks at Held2gether. What? Darren's very nice. I'm frequently nice. Anyway, one of the things I tell people the first night is to let go of any preconceived notions about the need to be funny, or worry about not being funny, or trying to prove how funny they really are. Because believe it or not, improv class is not about being funny.

I have a theory on funny, in case you wondered. I'm sure you didn't, because by now you realize I have a theory on nearly everything. You also realize I'm inclined to share my theories. Because that's how I roll.

My theory is this: There are three levels of funny or sense of humor. Like the 5 stages of grief only, you know, completely different. The first level is Funny People. These are people with a sense of humor and an ability to see and share humor with others, who can generally make others laugh. I'm not implying this is the best level - some funny people are obnoxious and always have to be "on" and never take anything seriously, ever, at all. So please understand I'm not judging. I save my judgeyness for puppets. Of course, some funny people are funny in a totally not-obnoxious way, and you want to be around them 24/7 because they make you laugh - at yourself, at them, at the world in general.

The second level is Funny Appreciators. These people are not generally funny themselves, but they do appreciate the humor others create and they are as willing as anybody to have a good laugh. Not everyone who loves to read is a great writer; similarly, not everyone who loves to laugh can create humor themselves. Some can create humor and just choose not to for whatever reason. Maybe their always "on" friend drives them crazy, and they are determined not to be that guy so they don't try to be funny themselves. I dunno. It's just a theory, peeps. It's not like I've done studies. In any event, Funny Appreciators are awesome people to have around, in life and in an audience.

The third level is Funny Deficient. These people wouldn't know funny if it bit them on the ass. I get that we all have a different sense of WHAT is funny, and Dumb and Dumber ain't it for me. But if NOTHING falls into the category of funny, and a person is the exact opposite of the always "on" guy, that person is devoid of a sense of humor. I know people like this, though not intentionally.

My point, however, is that anyone can learn to do improv. My guess is that Funny Deficient people wouldn't be drawn to an improv class, and I've never encountered such a person in any class so far. But I believe they can still learn improv, because there are specific rules to improv that create a structure in which funny shit just happens. And once they learn to play by the rules, and experience funny firsthand, and discover the joy of making people laugh, I think the Funny Deficient People can graduate to Funny Appreciators and even Funny People.

So if you know any Funny Deficient people, give them a gift certificate for an H2G improv class and test my theory. It can't hurt.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Improv: Make It Matter!

In my non-improv life, I write content for websites. I know, pretty friggin' glamorous, right? And sometimes I have to write biographical information for the people whose websites I'm writing for. Like "I'm the world's foremost expert on hair plugs, and here's why..."

It's not a bad gig, actually. I mean, people in general like to talk about themselves, so when I interview them about their background and why they do what they do, they're usually really happy and animated and eager to share their wonderfulness.

Except I talked to a guy last week who was not happy or animated or eager to share his wonderfulness. I can't even swear that he was awake, to be honest. He talked in the most monotonous tone imaginable, and said the most blah things imaginable. He doesn't like his profession (but he doesn't hate it), he doesn't love his clients (but they're okay), he figures he's pretty good at what he does (but it doesn't actually matter to him or anyone else), he doesn't think of himself as having a family because he's divorced and his kids don't live with him (but he's not angry at his ex) and he thinks the best that can be said of him is that clients don't think he's an asshole (which is more than can be said of some). His words, not mine.

The whole time I was on the phone with him, I was looking for razor blades and screaming inside my head, MAKE IT MATTER. I don't care what, just make ANYTHING matter.

Usually when I encounter unusual people in the real world, I think of them as good improv characters. Or at least as possessing traits I can use to create a good improv character. But this guy would be a terrible improv character. You can be a low energy, life's-got-me-down character, but something has to matter. And you have to have a change of emotion for the scene to work - so that means at least two emotions: the one you start with, and the one you change to. He doesn't even have one to start with.

Look, I'm glad the guy isn't as depressed as he made me. I'm just upset I didn't even get a good character out of the whole mind-numbing 47 minutes. Not that I was counting.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Why Take Improv, Anyway?

A new round of Held2gether improv classes starts this week, which always gets me thinking about my first time. In an improv class. C'mon, peeps, it's only Monday.

Fortunately, I didn't know enough about improv to be scared or nervous or anything. Even though I was taking improv to help me be less shy and to push myself out of my comfort zone, I didn't find that concept scary, per se. I don't know if that means I'm braver than I thought or the blonde is more natural than I thought, but either way it was a good thing.

What I discovered when we all got in a circle and introduced ourselves was that everybody was taking improv for some big reason in addition to the obvious reason of having fun. Here are some of the common ones, in case you wondered...

• Overcome shyness
• Improve public speaking
• Build confidence
• Improve interpersonal communication/relationships
• Learn to work better as part of a team
• Improve acting ability
• Thought improv was stand up

Except for that last one, improv really does help with all of those things - and in a way that is totally fun.

Improv can also be totally scary, because learning new things and being incredibly goofy in front of a bunch of strangers is outside most peoples' comfort zones. But the good news is, at Held2gether, we are all about making the scary UNscary. Two hours of people laughing and clapping and encouraging you takes 99% of the scary away, so you can focus on the fun + whatever other reason you had for coming to class.

Unless you came to learn stand up. That's a whole different class, people.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Improv: Go With the Flow

I am not a go-with-the-flow kinda girl by nature. Which is one of the many, many reasons improv is good for me. If left to my own devices, I can be a bossy, control freak, my-way-or-the-highway pain in everyone's ass.

Learning to let go of my agenda in improv was difficult... but once I learned to do it there, the skill spilled over into real life and I became much better at not being the boss of everyone and everything. Now I can let other people be in charge, and I'm happy to do what's asked of me. I can enjoy other people making the plans, so I can just show up and be. Of course, I still like to be in charge of some stuff from time to time. I mean, you can't just leave a night of drunken dancing to chance.

Wait, wait. I have a point, I promise! My point is that the Toastmasters group I belong to is, um, somewhat less organized than I would like.

Okay, I'll be honest. It's utter friggin' chaos.

Today I'm the Toastmaster of the meeting, which means I basically run the meeting. Only because of factors that you wouldn't believe if I told you (running the gamut from illness to overwork to birds), half of the people who were supposed to have roles at the meeting have bailed - including the speakers!

Naturally, I took a couple of minutes (hours) to be pissed and bitchy. After all, I put a lot of work and effort into preparing for my part, and now it's all jacked up because of people who don't stick with their commitments. Argh.

But then I ate some breakfast and I thought about it. And I decided this is really a perfect opportunity for me to improvise. Sure, there's an actual meeting agenda and I have certain things I'm supposed to do during the meeting, but I can still let go of my agenda and stop being mad at people and just make the meeting as fun as possible.

That's a huge improvement for me, btw. Before improv, I would've taken a couple of weeks (months) to be pissed and bitchy.

Wanna learn to go with the flow and be unflappable in the face of life's constant challenges? Sign up for a H2G Improv class. You'll have the time of your life!

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Because I Said So

be·cause   [bih-kawz, -koz, -kuhz] conjunction

1. for the reason that; due to the fact that: The boy was absent because he was ill.
2. the fact that: The reason I haven't been fired is because my boss hasn't got around to it yet.

No, I haven't turned into a walking dictionary. It's just that I sometimes have weird thoughts, and my weird thought of the day was, "What's the most important word in improv?" Not the most important word about improv, like listening or agreeing or committing or whatever. But the most important word spoken in an improv scene.

At first I thought the answer was you. In improv, you want to label your partner and give them gifts of information and reactions, and I thought maybe you'd be saying you a lot. "You are annoying me with the way you flip those pancakes. You are just like your mother!"

But the more I thought about it (and I really do think about these things, peeps), the more convinced I became that because is the most important word. Why? Well, because.

Lots of times, people throw out interesting labels. And they tell us how they feel about those labels, and about other information in the scene. But quite frequently, they don't tell us why they feel the way they do. "I love baking bread with you, Martha!" is okay information, but why do you love baking bread with Martha so much? When you make a statement like that, the audience is dying to know why! What the hell is so special about baking bread with Martha? And remember, the audience doesn't really give a shit about baking bread, so the special part really needs to be about Martha. Does she smell better than your other coworkers? Does she touch you inappropriately? Does she bake pot into the bread? "I love baking bread with you, Martha, because you shimmy your hips every time you knead the dough" is a better chunk of information.

Another reason because is an important word is, uh, because sometimes people give bizarro information. I know that sounds strange, but I have actually seen improv scenes where information went to Crazytown. If you get in the habit of saying because after your statements, it will go a long way towards justifying any crazy information you accidentally spout. "I chopped off my own arm to impress you, Michael" is crazy information. "I chopped off my own arm to impress you, Michael, because you've always belittled my abilities and I wanted you to see that I'm just as macho as you" can lead to a funny pattern of you trying to prove how macho you are.

It doesn't take long to get used to justifying what you say, if you just practice adding a because phrase after it. For example, I have to go now, because I'm hungry.

See? Easy.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Not Just Any Moment... THIS Moment

Sorry for the sporadic posting. What with ASTD and then getting caught up with work and then having a bazillion improv classes, my schedule got all cattywampus. I think I'm back on track now, though.

Whenever I have a big show or, as it turns out, a big conference, I have this huge letdown afterwards. It's like I've put all this work and effort into it, and then when it's over there's a void where all that effort used to go. And then I get kinda sad. I think partly I'm sad because I miss all that work and excitement that went into the thing, and partly I'm sad because there's never any guarantee there'll be another thing as great as the thing that just ended.

So that's how I've been feeling this week after I got back from Denver. And then I got all analytical, which is how I roll after all, and started trying to figure out why I get this way, and what causes it, and when it will be over. And then I tortured my friends with my angst. Also how I roll. Sorry. :(

And then I remembered the rule underlying all the other rules of improv: be in the moment. You can't listen if you're not in the moment, and if you can't listen, you can't yes, and or add information or commit. It ALL depends on being in the moment.

WARNING: Improv = Life analogy coming up...

Yep. It ALL depends on being in the moment. The only reason, really, I'd be having a meltdown after a show or conference is because a) I'm missing what happened in the past or b) I'm concerned about what might happen in the future. Last I checked, neither of those things were NOW.

You can't fully enjoy your life if you're living in the past or for the future. I don't know about you, but I would much rather enjoy my life than, uh, not enjoy it. So I'ma do my best to just be present in THIS moment and see how that works out for me.

FYI, in THIS moment, I'm hungry. You know, just in case you wondered.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Specialty Night. And Day.

Tonight is the night we've come to know and love as "Specialty Night," a Held2gether Improv Level 2 exclusive, and I don't know about anybody else, but I can't wait!

Specialty Night occurs in week 5 of the 6 week series of classes, and it's the class where we get to address our weaknesses. I suppose you could say we have the opportunity to do that every week in class, but Specialty Night forces the issue for those of us who would sometimes prefer to pretend we have no weaknesses.

After four weeks of class, Darren has a good idea of what each student is currently struggling with, and he develops an exercise designed specifically to help each person address that big issue. It's an incredible amount of work for him, tailoring custom exercises for every person in class, but the results are so tangible and immediate that he's willing to put the effort into it. FYI, that kind of individual attention is part of what makes H2G unique. Just sayin'.

What I love about Specialty Night is that the exercises are so focused, it's virtually impossible to rely on your go-to, fallback, safe mode. One of the things that happens in Specialty Night is that people can't worry about being funny, which is often the thing that is holding them back. When you are doing an exercise that pushes you out of your comfort zone in a very specific way, it's hard for your brain to also try to be funny, so you let go of that. And in the process, you learn that you CAN do whatever it is you thought you couldn't do.

I have experienced 2 1/2 years worth of Specialty Nights, and I have seen so many epiphanies, breakthroughs, aha moments - whatever you want to call 'em - where people have, as a result of one exercise, taken their improv to a whole new level. I readily admit it's not comfortable, but it can still be fun if you embrace the challenge and just decide up front that you're going to give it everything you have and trust that the exercise is exactly what you need right now to help get you over your current stumbling block.

Remember, though, the epiphanies, breakthroughs and aha moments are up to YOU. Darren can only do so much, and the best-designed exercise in the world won't help you if you don't accept the challenge to push yourself and go in with the intention of learning what you need to learn from it.

There's also a Level 2 class on Friday mornings, and they have Specialty Day to look forward to tomorrow. It's almost exactly like Specialty Night, except it's in the daytime. Duh.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Improv Trainers Kill at ASTD Conference. Film at 11.

I know we seem pretty silly sometimes, and after all, improv is about fun (among other things). But even though we don't take ourselves seriously, we take our jobs very seriously. And Darren, Viet and I worked hard preparing for our Got Creativity? workshop at the American Society of Training and Development International Conference a couple days ago.

All our hard work and determination paid off, and we were a rousing success. We not only got 125 people up on their feet doing improv, laughing their asses off and having a fantastic time at the end of a long day of training sessions, but we kept them for the full 90 minutes. Nobody bailed. And on top of that, they learned stuff. They totally grasped the improv/business linkages we were making, and at one point Darren got spontaneous applause when he explained that the exercise they had just done had a direct correlation to employees taking ownership of corporate philosophies.

Of course, each of us sees this as a personal victory. More importantly, it's a victory for H2G. And more importantly still, it's a victory for improv and all the people who can benefit from it.

We'll have conference material available on the website for download soon, and you can check out the photos at our Facebook page. And tomorrow I'll be back with more about my favorite subject: improv for life.

You're welcome.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Improv and Skirts

We're getting really excited about presenting our Got Creativity? workshop at the 2012 ASTD Conference next Monday! I'm not actually sure what Darren and Viet are most excited about, but I can tell you what I'm all aflutter about... I get to wear girly clothes.

I mean, it's great that we'll be sharing how improv training in the workplace can fundamentally alter (for the better!) how coworkers view each other, how they interact, how they can actually learn creativity and learn to support others in creative approaches to any type of business endeavor. You don't have to read this blog for more than about 10 minutes to realize that I am totally committed to the idea that improv really is for life and can help virtually everyone on the planet.

But doing improv all the time means I wear jeans and t-shirts all the time. I've seen people (attempt to) do improv in a skirt and heels and such, and it's okay as long as they do only characters who stand still and act like a person wearing a skirt and heels. Crawling around on the ground, jumping about and just having the freedom to be able to do anything onstage without worrying about wardrobe malfunctions pretty much requires jeans and t-shirts.

Since I won't be doing improv or even teaching improv at ASTD, I can wear a skirt. And cute shoes. I just have to interact with the participants and help them out with the exercises - none of which requires more physicality than standing upright.

I know it's been way too long since I've dressed like a girl, because when I wore a skirt to Los Compadres for Andy's birthday, Viet, Lisa, Tracy and Bruno all commented on it. At length.

Here's the skirt I won't be wearing.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Bad [Improv] Dog

I found a dog today, which technically has nothing to do with improv. I used to be a stray dog magnet, which is a pain because you have to try to track down the owners and sometimes the dog doesn't have a tag or a business card or anything. And I'm not a sleuth, people. Sheesh. Luckily, lately the stray dogs haven't been finding me. Till today.

Anyway, this dog I found today appears to be a purebred Shiba, but with no ID. So I took a (crappy) picture and posted the "Found Dog!" flyer on the neighborhood trees and on FB, the electronic equivalent of neighborhood trees, and I drove around looking for "Lost Dog!" flyers or sad children.

I didn't find any of those things. Instead I got a message from Nate saying that Shibas are the one breed of dog he doesn't like and that, "I prefer ones that aren't all weird and distant like these types of dogs. They are like bad improv'ers: they don't listen, horrible eye contact, no emotion and on their own agenda."

Which made me wonder: what breed of dog correlates to what type of improvisor?

And then I thought: who cares? There are a bazillion breeds of dogs, and I can't equate each one to a type of improvisor.

So then I decided: This day has pretty much been a bust all the way around. Might as well give up on this post and resolve to have a better day tomorrow. In the meantime, if you or someone you know is missing a dog that sucks at improv, please message me.

By Sonnjea Blackwell