Say Day

Today is ‪Say Day‬: a day when improvisers can share how grateful we are to know and work with our fellow improvisers.

My father died when I was 18. We were (and are) a loving family, but I still vowed to make sure those I love knew how much they meant to me during my life. I'm on vacation this week and missing the celebrations in Pittsburgh. So while I believe the idea is to say these words in person, I am acknowledging some people here instead.

There is not enough Internet to acknowledge everyone who has had an impact on my improv life. Even if you are not specifically called out here, if you are reading this, you are definitely an important person to me, so thank you!

Greg Gillotti: You are a constant source of inspiration to me. You are so dedicated to teaching and performing improv for all the right reasons, and you are pure joy on stage. I count myself continually lucky that you choose to play with me in so many groups and for so many years. I wish we had more time to sit and talk, so I could learn more about everything you do.

Nilesh Shah: You were the first person to tell me that the amount of effort I put into running a team was unusual and appreciated, and I needed to hear that. I am always thankful when you are on stage with me because you play in a way I am incapable of. 

Irony City casts past and present (Ben, Amy, Anna, Jocelyn, Adam, Scott and Scott): You are the reason I am here, my friends and extended family during my twenties. You showed me that improv could be more than yuck-em-ups, that we could have fun and create something fantastic on stage, and you gave me a lot of sandbox to play in. And now that we have evolved to a much more collaborative team, you are the team I feel most at home with on stage. 

Justin Zell and Kasey Daley: You catalyzed the growth of the Pittsburgh improv community, gave me my first classroom with students who came back week after week, cast the first Pittsburgh house teams, and encouraged drinks at Park House. For this, I will always thank you.

Ayne Terceria: There are many projects I see and wish I had thought of or want to do myself–Uncumber shows are so beyond anything I could do myself that I just admire and enjoy them. You have an incredible and creative mind, and I am honored to call you my friend. And I love the rare occasions we have to improvise together: you are fearless and push me to play on the cliff's edge. 

Tessa Karel: When I grow up, I want to be Tessa Karel. A lot of my admiration for you is non-improv and I'll suffice to say you have a kind heart. On stage, you so consistently find your fun in a way that seems so true to your personality rather than folding to anyone else's ideal. That is, at its core, all I strive to do.

Asaf Ronen: You epitomize for me the kindness and humility of improv celebrities. From the few hours you spent with me on the phone helping after reading your book to feedback you gave me on my workshop one sheet over coffee, you have been so generous to someone who at the time was just a stranger. I am thankful to consider you a friend and mentor.

Woody Drennan: You have a strong sense of what good improv means to you and how to teach it, and long conversations with you have contributed to a complete transformation in my coaching and teaching style compared to a couple years ago. You ask me to be in projects without caveat, and I admire your self-confidence and your no bullshit attitude.

Arcade Founders (Jethro, Kristy, Mike, Abby, Randy): You are juggling the needs of a business and a community, and in doing so guided by good hearts and a desire to make the comedy community in Pittsburgh a better and more fruitful place for artists. I am honored to have my face on your wall and a place at your theater.

The Pittsburgh improv community: Ah, like any community you have been a source of joy and pain. But both are important ingredients to a life well lived. You have provided me some of my dearest friends, my fondest memories, support for my most ambitious projects, and the teams that have shaped my passion for an art for which I care quite deeply.

Looking forward to the next 10 years! 

The Change Machine Manifesto

A while back, I posted about a form that I was working on with a newly formed house team at the Arcade Comedy Theater.

Well it has now been 1.5 years, and Change Machine is still going strong. Recently, I boiled down all of my garbled ideas into (what I hope is) a clear description of the form that we now put up. I called this the Change Machine Manifesto. I did this because a) the team was still struggling to make sense of what I wanted at times and b) I thought it would be useful for me to try to sum it up simply.

Reproduced here for simplicity, because it is a form that nicely embodies how I like to do improv, and in case anyone is interested:

The Change Machine form is about possibilities to expand our world. 

We prefer teeing up these possibilities and discovering their outcomes together over following a developing plot/premise. 
 
Together, we build one coherent universe:

  • We follow an essential thread from the previous scene rather than sweep it away to start over 
  • We prefer the edit with the most possibilities to the one that points to a specific premise 
  • We prefer more players on stage to allow for more possible edits  

 We build from from an initial moment: 

  • We begin using only what information is in our scene partner's eyes 
  • We build scenic momentum by adding information with every line 
  • Above all else, we improvise playfully at all stages of the form

You CAN Edit a Scene Too Early

I was taught that you can never edit a scene too early. This may also be expressed as "by the time you think 'it's time to edit', it's already too late" or "follow your feet" / "listen to your body."

I don't necessarily disagree with any of these, but I would like to propose a different way of thinking about the problem.

Rather than think of the edit, let's think of the scene.

This way of thinking pre-supposes that after a certain point (that is usually a couple of minutes in) our scenes are going to fall flat. And before we get there, we should edit. I think that's a pretty negative way of thinking. And what does that thinking have to say about masters like TJ & Dave or Cackowski & Talarico. What would their shows look like if they were to edit at the first sign of a possible "traditional" edit opportunity?

I believe that following the "never too soon" thinking leads to short-sighted improv. The improv itself actually starts to build to a big laugh line with no expectation of getting past it, with living in those consequences. I prefer that we think of ourselves as capable of improvising each scene for the length of the show if necessary. We focus on repeatably creating meaty scenes and editing not to "save" the scene from potential future ruin but just because it is time for the story to move on (or whatever however your form prefers its edits).

This model trust scenes and players to survive past that first big laugh. And in doing so trains them to deal with the consequences of their moves.

When I first present this idea to groups, we often play 5 or 10 minute scenes, then go back and talk about the first moment that their Harold edit instincts kick in. It is often within 30 seconds to 2 minutes. Yet more often than not, the scene work that plays 3, 4, 5 minutes out is beautiful and unexpected territory, and we are thankful to have seen it. When we go in strapping in for a long ride, a number of things happen:

  • We more often push past the part of the scene that we've "figured out" in our head and begin stumbling again–listening to our scene partner and playing on the edge of failure
  • Small specific choices early on and even mistakes get magnified into show-affecting themes
  • Solid meaty scenes tend to get solider and meatier. Fledgling scenes tend to get more fledgling*
  • We heighten past the point we used to think was the top and again find amazing subconscious places to go (thanks to Chris Trew for first introducing this idea to me).

* Another key point: this is a place to retain your Harold edit instinct. When a scene did not start well, I would go back to: you can't edit it too early. This is less a note about editing and more a note to improve our ability as a team to make sure we get into that easy, less work, scene's building momentum place quickly. This will of course never be 100%.

YETI - A (fairly) repeatable process to get to meaty scenes quickly

I posted about what improv means to me lately, but how do you do it??

There's no easy answer. I have been teaching a workshop for a while now about how to start scenes (or really shows) in a way that I feel most reliably leads to this sort of work and, in my experience, has a big rate of success leading to rich, meaty scenes. This was developed out of how Change Machine has been starting scenes for 1+ years, and how I would later get my guests to start on Gray Matter. This is how I have the most fun on stage and feel like I am not doing a ton of work. This is not true of everyone, and if your fun is elsewhere I take no offense if this is not a good system for you. A few people have asked me for notes or a description of YETI, so I thought I would put it up here.

So here is an overview of YETI or Everything You Need is In Your Partner's Eyes.

The acronym walks through the first moments of a scene:

  • Yourself
  • Eyes
  • Tension
  • [Discover]
  • Information

Let's walk through each of those in turn. Note this process begins with the lights down, before the show properly begins:

Yourself

To begin, both (or any number of) players make a small, physical, human choice. Some players when they hear this contort themselves into downward facing dog. The goal here is not to "transmit" information to your scene partner (e.g. I am playing baseball) but just to stumble into some choice that you, yourself made. Human here means that your shape should be the shape we find a person when no one is looking. 

Eyes

Make eye contact with your scene partner. This cannot be overstated. Until the final step (Information), this eye contact should not be broken. More often than not, when a player breaks eye contact I can see in that moment that they feel like they've figured out what the scene is. They've got the plot down. So they disconnect. The eyes go out to the crowd or up. But I promise you the flow of information to and from your scene partner is still at paramount importance. It is very difficult to be planning ahead when staring into your partner's eyes. 

When the eye contact is established, the lights come up!

Tension

Things just keep getting harder don't they? Now I push you to take all of those ideas that are storming your mind and let them flow back out. Your instinct is to think, "she is sitting and looks angry, I bet we're kids and I broke her toys." But I will push you to react physically. If she looks angry, perhaps you back slowly away. Perhaps you close your posture. Your unbroken eye contact will ensure she reacts immediately, perhaps easing closer and closer attempting to open you back up. Throughout all of this we are delaying as far as possible labeling anything. We are just reacting to what is happening right in front of us as dramatic tension builds.

[Discover]

I put discover in quotes because a) it does not fit in the acronym and b) it really is not very distinct from the following step. But I will separate it here for clarity. 

At some point, the tension gets so high that it boils over and you discover the first line of dialog when one of you cannot help but speak. You will feel the difference between this and your typical improv initiation. Compared to

"Can I get a suggestion?"
"Flask"
"Flask, thank you"
(internally) "Hmm, flask makes me think of the town drunk, so I'll say"
"Hey, you better not be drinking whiskey in the street, Hank!"

Ugh, all that thinking all that work. In this model we take all of this natural behavior, our built-in reactions to body language and facial expressions and as it happens we begin to build a picture in our head. In the previous example let's say you chose to back away slowly and your scene partner inched ever closer, her angry look turning more and more psychotic. Your arms now open wide as you back up faster and faster until you hit the side wall. You feel protective of something certainly. Just as she is inches from your face you yell, "You can't have her!"

No work, no thinking. Just makes sense. And already by the first line of dialog there is so much happening.

Information

In a lot of improv, someone comes out with an idea, and we give them space to get that idea out. In this worldview, no one has an idea. We do not sit idly back and assume someone else will do the work. From the first line on we add information in every line. This is harder than it sounds. This is beyond yes and. This is not resting, not repeating what we know, but building the momentum of the scene at breakneck speed (also tends to lead to action):

A: "You can't have her!"
B: "You are not powerful enough to stop me!"
A: "I am willing to sacrifice more" (mimes a blade, at her own neck)
B: (backing now away) "You can't. You won't. Neither of us would survive."
A: "I never wanted it to end this way. But you forced this on us, Gwyneth! You did this to us!"

I just made that up as I wrote it. Not quite the same as being on stage but you get the idea. See how every single line, new information is added. The second line, it may be our instinct for B to say "Yes I can!" or "Give her to me now!" but that doesn't really tell our partner or the audience any new information. We know B wants her and A doesn't what B to have her.

This also happens to be an incredibly high energy scene. In TJ and Dave terms (as I understand them), it has high heat and heavy weight. It does not have to be that way. That was just the scene I made up writing this post.

Here's another example:

Change Machine at the Pittsburgh Comedy Festival on 8/23/2014

I really love this stuff. The more people ask good and interesting questions, the more I refine my own understanding of it. If you're interested in learning more, let me know!

ACTION, or If Romeo and Juliet had Been a Fairly Typical Improv Show...

This is my prediction of what Romeo and Juliet would be like if it was done by many improv teams (abridged):

  • Romeo and Juliet fall in love
  • The Prince says Romeo can't hang around. 
  • Romeo is all like, "but I love Juliet"
  • The Prince is like, "Oh man that sucks."
  • Juliet maybe is like "Guys, if you don't figure this out, I am gonna...kill myself!" 
  • Romeo steps in like, "Yo J, don't kill yourself I love you too much."
  • Juliet is like: "I don't know maybe I should. But Romeo does love me..."

And on and on. Not as compelling as the original is it? What's the problem? We never get to the point where DRAMA transpires and people are able to emote about it.

I think a lot of improvisers are afraid of action. They are afraid to make bold moves, to offset the course of a scene or show in progress. They are afraid to drink that poison and leave their scene partners to deal with the consequences. 

But we go to the theater and to movies to watch people deal with the consequences of their dead lovers! Not to watch them debate whether or not to drink the poison (notice I didn't pick Hamlet).

The more I coach teams to move toward action, the more I see truly incredible and surprising moves. Often their teammates are surprised but once we move past the initial surprise we get into such rich and deep scenes where we deal with the fallout  rather than swimming in the muck of indecision.

CAVEATS:

  • I am not promoting unmotivated "invented" action. If we're at your family reunion and you stand up and start throwing baseballs at your Aunt June, that doesn't make any sense and confuses everyone. If we're at your family reunion and the scene has been about how your childhood was taken away by your Aunt June, who made you work in her store since you were 4 and you never got to do anything normal kids do. Then your biological father shows up with a bag of baseballs in tow to make up for lost time, and you stand up and start throwing them at your Aunt June, bravo!
  • This sounds like the old improv adage: Show Don't Tell. I support that thinking, and they are related. But to me, this is a shade different. Show Don't Tell means rather than talking about going to the store, just go to the store. Going to the store may not be that big a move though. It may just be something we were talking about. I am particularly advocating that you make bold choices that we are afraid of specifically because they could potentially change (or deepen) the course of the piece.