You're Such a ____________________!

It's super important to label everything in improv. That's because all the audience sees is a couple of ordinary folks on stage - there are no sets, no props, no costumes, no voice-over narrations... there's nothing to tell them who you are, what you're doing, where you're doing it or why they should even give a crap about this scene. That's your job.

It's a big job, I know. And sometimes you can get in a rut and not be able to think of interesting ways of labeling yourself or your scene partner. That's why I'm sharing this handy drawing that's been making the rounds on FB this week.



Except for "the one with bad memory," these are all labels that could totally work in an improv scene. If you label someone as "always getting hurt" or "swearing all the time" or "goodie two-shoes," those are really awesome gifts that help them know what kind of character they are. And you can label yourself, too, don't forget.

You're welcome.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

What Are These Troupe Thingies, Anyway?

I've gotten some questions lately about how exactly the Held2gether performing troupes are structured and how they "work," as well as at what point students get to perform. So, since I have to write something, I'll answer those questions here in case other people have been wondering as well.

Different improv schools handle performances differently; some have student showcases at the end of every session, some have no performances until you've reached a certain level, some have none at all. There are pros and cons to each, and reasons why schools would opt for one route over another.

At Held2gether, we don't do student showcases. We do, however, offer certain classes (referred to as "performance classes" on the website) that culminate with a performance for the public - all of these are intermediate to advanced level classes that require students to have completed some combination of H2G's Level 1, Level 2, Level 3, sketch writing, long form and/or sketch performing classes. All of the specific pre-requisites and performance opportunities for each class are listed on the website. We had the Short Form Performance Class graduation shows this past weekend, and they were super fun.

As far as the Held2gether troupes, here's the deal: We have two troupes called the Held2gether Main Company and the Held2gether Friday Company. The Main Company performs the 4th Saturday of (almost) every month, and whenever we perform we have a member of the Friday Company as our "special guest." The Friday Company performs the 1st Friday of (almost) every month, and whenever they perform, they have a special guest that Darren invites - usually somebody from one of the advanced/specialty classes.

We don't have open auditions for the troupes - they are set until somebody leaves, and then Darren makes a decision as to how to fill their spot based on the overall needs of the troupe at that point in time. It's not a matter of somebody having been in classes "long enough" to join the Friday Company or people in the Friday Company moving up to the Main Company based on seniority.

All that being said, those of us who have the honor of performing in either of the H2G troupes know what a special privilege that is, and we definitely don't take it for granted. We take classes continually to hone our skills and keep improving because we are determined to represent H2G to the best of our abilities and to be good role models for the concept of "improv for life."

Hope that answers your questions, peeps.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Entering the Danger Zone

I'm plumb tuckered out! It's not from the quantity of work I've done the past week or so; it's actually from the level of comfort I had with the work I did.

I decided a while back that I wasn't really putting 100% effort into things (which is a lifelong habit I'm working on breaking). While I agree that in certain situations "good enough" is good enough, in certain other situations there is absolutely no such thing as "good enough."

In terms of my own growth and development as an artist and a human being, I needed to push myself further out of my comfort zone. I needed to realize that there is no good enough. Because the thing is, whenever you become adept at a new skill, your comfort zone grows. Things that used to terrify you no longer do. That's awesome sauce. However, once an activity, skill or emotion ceases to challenge you, doing it ceases to improve you. You have to leave the comfort zone and venture into the danger zone.

I've been giving everything more of me the past couple of months, and this last week was a week of several firsts for me: first time teaching a sketch writing class, first time teaching an intermediate improv class, first time in a new improv school, first time being interviewed on TV, first speaking role in a film. A couple of those things affected only me, so screwing up wouldn't hurt anything for anybody else. But in several instances, other people were depending on me to do my job well. Doing something for the first time is scary as hell in any event; having others relying on you to do it well ups the ante considerably. In the past, I would have simply declined offers that put that much pressure on me; I would've avoided the danger zone at all costs. Now that improv is my middle name, I feel like I owe it to myself and everyone else to accept those challenges and rise to them.

That doesn't mean I'll never fail. But like we learn in improv class, commitment will get you very, very far - and so by giving each of these endeavors 100% of my attention and ability, I at least know that if I failed, I failed honestly and not through lack of effort.

And I also feel like I earned the lazy Sunday I'm currently enjoying. Yay!

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Take the Easy Way

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. That's helpful to know in geometry and figuring out how to get from your house to the nearest Cold Stone, obviously, but you might wonder what the heck I'm talking about in terms of improv.

I'd argue that the shortest distance between two points in improv (say from "action" to "laughter") is also a straight line - in other words, a simple, easy premise. Sometimes we get caught up trying to be clever or think of something interesting or entertaining, and we overlook the obvious choice. Just because something seems easy doesn't mean it can't be funny. And oftentimes the very easiest thing to do is simply to "yes, and" the first line out and make that the big deal.

A lot of times we look at those first couple lines as nothing more than getting out the foundation and setting up the scene so that THEN we can get to the big what. But if we embrace the notion that there are no throw-away lines in improv, there's no reason to wait for a big what to come along... sometime... down the line... after we've said all the stuff about who and what and where.

Of course, like everything else in a good improv scene, this relies on listening to each bit of information. And then choosing to make every bit of information important. Easier said than done, I realize, but if you challenge yourself to listen closely and make whatever the very first thing that's said THE thing, you'll get in the habit of not missing those first few foundation lines. And you'll get to your "what" - and, consequently, the laughter - that much more quickly.

Hope this was helpful. Oh, and please don't trudge through strangers' yards on your way to Cold Stone. A straight line isn't always the best way to go, even if it is the shortest.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

No Agenda = Good Improv = Laughter and Applause

I apologize for the seemingly inappropriate photo, but I actually used it on purpose to prove a point... which is that we see what we want to see (or at least what we expect to see).

Our brains are adept at translating sensory input, whether visual or auditory or whatever, into information we expect. It's some kind of efficiency thing, evidently. We see a red octagon, and our brains expect the word on it to say stop. It's why proofreading is so difficult - our brains know what the word is supposed to be, and they often don't catch the trasnposition error. See?

In improv, the effect is evident in listening. If an improvisor is truly in the moment and not holding onto any agenda, they will be able to listen to their scene partner and respond appropriately. But if he or she has an idea in their head, some agenda they are attached to in even a small way, their listening will be compromised. Their brain will hear the words they want or expect to hear; they'll hear words that justify the agenda they are determined to drive. And they won't hear the rest.

Then they'll add their information that they've been dying to add, and it won't quite jive with the rest. It won't necessarily be out of left field, but it won't really work, either.

Your brain works by matching up patterns, so the best way not to get trapped hearing incorrectly is not to have any loop running in your brain. If you have an agenda, your brain will match the information it hears to that agenda and literally discard or fail to hear anything that doesn't "fit." If you have no agenda, your brain has no pattern to match, so it takes in ALL the information.

I know it's scary to let go of your agenda and resist the urge to pre-plan, but I assure you your scenes will go better if you do. Then, as you let go of your agenda more and more and have better and better scenes, your brain will start to recognize the "pattern" of no agenda = good improv = laughter and applause and it will gradually stop trying to force its ideas on you and everybody else.

I hope you that read right.

By Sonnjea Blackwell