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

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

Improv Comedy in 3 Easy Sentences

I would love to be able to shower you with a healthy dose of improv-y wisdom today, but the truth is, I'm not wise. At all.

What I've learned about improv comedy can fit into about three sentences. (Okay, 3 basic sentences with a couple of extra sentences for justification. What? I've told you before, I'm the Queen of Justification.)

1. Be honest. The truth is not only stranger than fiction, it's way the hell funnier, too. Just play the reality of the made-up situation you're given, and the funny will happen.
2. Don't tell jokes. For the love of unicorns, people, one-liners do not belong in improv. If you simply can't help yourself, do stand-up. That's what one-liners and jokey punchlines are designed for. Every time you go for the joke, you stop the momentum of the scene and pull the audience out of the action.
3. Choose to lose. There's just something inherently funny about a loser who accepts the loser label and runs with it. Not only that, but an on-going battle/argument/contest of any kind is b-o-r-i-n-g, and to end it someone has to lose. In real life, the loser is the loser. In improv, the loser is the BIG winner. Being labeled any kind of loser is the best gift you can get. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth by denying it and insisting you aren't, in fact, a loser.

I was thinking about writing a book about improv, but now I realize it would be a short book. Three sentences, and you're an improv expert.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

If I Can Do It, It's Not a Skill

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Mutual Improv Admiration Society

You know how it is in life, when you tend to discount things that come easily to you or that you do well? And you admire people who can do something that you find next to impossible? Like, I can put together anything Ikea makes in under 10 minutes, which seems like a dumb skill to me. But I'm totally jealous of people who can plan a vacation and not get overwhelmed by the planes and the hotels and all the damn choices.

It's the same with improv. Not the prefab furniture or travel arrangements, I mean. Duh. But the tendency to discount that which you do well while over-regarding the skills of others. I'll explain. You're welcome.

Last week I had my semi-regular crisis of confidence regarding my ability to have different characters and, as Andy Co-Dependent would say, "bring the funny." And yet, after one of my classes, a long-time improvisor who I've never been in class with before and whose strength is characters gave me the best compliment you can get in improv: He said he can't wait to work with me. I'd been thinking I really wanted to work with him because he's a pro and hilarious and all that, but I couldn't see any reason the feeling would be mutual.

Turns out, while I've been busy admiring his ability to take on characters, he's been admiring my ability to add great information. Since adding information and justifying pretty much anything are not skills I had to learn, I consider them less important than skills I have to work at. But of course, Information is one of the Big 3 of improv rules. Agreement is another. And Commitment (to the scene and to the character you're playing) is the third. So the skill I admire is no more important than the skill I possess.

I think the message here is that there's no point in being jealous of other people's abilities. If they can do something that you want to be able to do, work hard at learning it. But don't discount the things you already do well, because they're important too, and other people think those are the skills worth having. Naturally, Held2gether improv classes in Long Beach can help you learn all of those skills.

Well, the Big 3, anyway. We don't actually spend much time on furniture assembly or booking travel. Sorry.