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

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

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

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

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