Patricia Ryan Madson . . . Early years. 1942 - 1965

Beginnings

            I have a clear memory of a vocabulary lesson in sixth grade English: the word was "pragmatic."  I loved the word immediately.  I have always been drawn toward utility.   For me the useful and the beautiful are one.   I prefer any gift that is useful over something strictly decorative. Baskets, boxes, bags and small holders of things are appealing to me.  Art is best, I think, when it teaches something important about living or can be used in daily life.  I am drawn to calligraphy for the message that infuses the artwork and to beautiful pottery in that can be used to hold food.  Textiles that cover the body, warm the bed or cover the floor interest me. The highest compliment I know as a teacher is that some teaching has proven useful to a student.  Utility, the summum bonum.

            I have a reverence for the practical . . . the pragmatic.  I don't know where this deep sense comes from.  It seems that I have had it from earliest memory, and it forms the basis of my personal values. This attraction led me into theatre. Theatre offers a concrete form for expression, for community.  It provides something that we all need- scheduled community organized around work that results in a gift. I loved studying theatre in college because it gave me a place to go every evening and be with others in a way that was not merely social.  We did something together; we expressed ourselves to one another using a playwrights words.  When we had finished the process of rehearsing we invited a big group (the audience) to our party and played for them, with them, in front of them.  And then we closed up our work, struck the set, put away the costumes, wiped clean the makeup tables, threw away the wilted flowers from our admirers, and celebrated with a cast party where we ate, danced, sang and congratulated one another for our mutual work.  

            I've often thought I was in it for the parties and the unique sense of belonging that develops within the cast of a play.  I liked having a fixed ending: closing night.  This "family" then went its separate ways.  A new community formed with each new project.  Because the act of creating  theatre together meets so many human needs -- community, expression, order and celebration--it is a form worth preserving and developing.

            It was unexpected that I became a Drama teacher.  Professor Raymond Hodges,  Chair of the Theatre Arts Department of what was then called Richmond Professional Institute (now Virginia Commonwealth University) called me in to suggest that I apply for a job as the Drama teacher at St. Catherine's School for Girls in Richmond, Virginia.   He had seen in me something that pointed toward this calling.   I had no training as a teacher.   Literally the thought had not crossed my mind.  I was interested in Theatre but mainly as an actress.  I knew hardly enough about this wide and deep profession to act in it.  Soon I would be teaching it to others.

            We sometimes teach out of our own ignorance and as the writer of  Jonathan Livingston Seagull pointed out: "We teach what we most need to learn."  That was indeed my case.   St. Catherine's School hired me in the summer of 1964 to begin as "the Drama teacher" for the whole school.  I even had my very own theatre, McVey Hall, a sturdy proscenium house that seated four or five hundred students.  In addition to the formal school auditorium, McVey Hall had an office for the Drama teacher and an entire Costume Shop behind it. 

             The Costume Shop was packed with dusty boxes filled with an overabundance of used articles given by the Jr. League after they were rejected at the church thrift sale.  Weekly some lady  would appear at the back door with a "donation to the costume shop."   There were also old costumes that had been sewn for school plays going back at least 50 years.  My predecessor had been a round faced white haired woman who had lovingly cared for these garments, collecting them over the years and cataloging them in boxes labeled "Hats, Men, felt, fedoras (1930's)" and in crayon handwritten on the same box "Archies' bowler."  

            I maintained that wilderness of cloth and gilt and memories during my two years as a resident teacher there, chain smoking menthol cigarettes in my office when I wasn't teaching or directing.  It fell to me to direct the annual St. Catherine's Day pageant, an event that honored the Senior girl who most personified the qualities of the school's namesake.  It was an odd ritual to my mind.  Poor St. Catherine died having been tortured on a wheel.  I can't remember ever knowing what her crime was, but I do remember clearly that the Lower school girls all did artwork for the big day rendering their youthful vision of what it looked like to be tortured on a rack.  All along the wall of the Lower school were appalling pictures, stick figures and some better, of a woman with blood gushing out of her, spread eagle, nailed to a giant wheel.  Early porn as far as I could tell which everyone took very, very seriously.  

            The pageant itself was a big deal.  The entire school got to vote on who would be "St. Catherine" and her maid of honor  or I think it was called the "Standard Bearer" (the runner up).  As the Drama teacher I was the very first to know the name of the chosen since it fell to me to outfit her to appear on stage in a tableaux as the martyred Saint.    There was a box marked "St. Catherine's Day - Costumes"  In it were a series of costume pieces and crowns and props used every year for this event.  It was a tradition that the girl chosen as St. Catherine would wear the same dress that had been worn by all the other St. C's from beginningless time.  When I pulled out THE DRESS I was horrified to see that it was literally falling apart.  It had been altered so often that the seams and darts were shredding and the waistline had pulled apart from the shirt.  It was probably a size 7 in today's measure and perfect if you were doing a wax figure of  Mrs. Amersham, the old woman who at 94 was still waiting for the groom to arrive amid the cobwebs in the Gothic novel.

            What needed to be done was to design a new gown for St. C that "fits all sizes".  So I created a design of a flowing "mu-mu" garment held together by a golden cord at the waist which crossed the body decorously.  I cut a piece from the heirloom dress worn by 50 years of St. Catherines and sewed it into the hem of the new costume to honor the tradition.  I considered those young women to come over the years and future Drama teachers who would be saved the long night of alterations of the old gown.  I wonder if that costume survives? 

            

            

Improv Game: Random Acts of Kindness

Random Acts of Kindness Introductions

The Improv Game created by Nat Tsolak

August, 2015

 

 

From Wikipedia:

“Random act of kindness

A random act of kindness is a selfless act performed by a person or people wishing either to assist or to cheer up an individual person or people. The phrase may have been coined by Anne Herbert, who says that she wrote "Practice random kindness and senseless acts of beauty" on a place mat at a Sausalito restaurant in 1982 or 1983.^[1][2] Either spontaneous or planned, random acts of kindness are encouraged by various communities.”

 

One of the perks of being a member of the AIN (Applied Improv Network) is meeting others around the world involved in using improvisation tools to help people.  Nat Tsolak from the UK (London) has a background in both Psychology and business as well as comedy improv.  We have never met, but reading his posts on Facebook I’m sure that we’d be great friends if our paths do breach the big pond someday.  

 

A few weeks ago I was intrigued by an announcement that he had created a new game that he calls: “Random Acts of Kindness.”  His purpose, he states, in coming up with the game was to find a way to build trust between strangers that didn’t rely on true personal revelations.  And also to give new players a chance to practice making up improvised stories.

 

So, the basic game, as I understand it, is for a member of the group to introduce another member by telling an improvised story which features their subject having done a “random act of kindness.”   The real value, as I see it, is to speak about someone in a wholly positive light, raising his status by sharing the little known fact.  E. g.  “I’d like to introduce Jason.  Very few people know that he always pays for the guy behind him when he crosses a toll bridge or paid freeway.”  “Meet Selena.  She collects water in a watering can in her shower and everyday waters her neighbor’s flower garden.  With the California drought it has made a difference.”

 

The idea is to simply endow someone as having done a kind and thoughtful deed that benefits others.  There is no need for the story to be wildly creative or fantastical.  (Although it can be.) The key thing is for us all to see that person (that character) in a positive light.  I think an added benefit is that these ideas fill the room with warm pictures of human actions that help others.  

 

A development of the game is to have the recipient agree to the story and add a detail from their perspective.  To illustrate this (Jason above) might add:  “Yes, and one day a lady was so charmed by my paying her toll that she rushed to catch up with me, jumped out of the car at a stoplight where we were both stopped and gave me a rose!”

 

Clearly, this game (as is true for most games) can be used for other purposes.  A lot depends upon what the early examples are.  It’s certainly possible to use the prompt as a way of coming up with the most elaborate and hysterical “act”, and thereby turn the game into a comedy creation session.   For my money, striving to make the endowments into wildly silly actions subverts the game.  Then, participants get the idea that we are trying to create “crazy stuff ” and may miss the point of making their partner look good.  When I teach this I always remind them that simple, ordinary examples of a “random act” are terrific.  We aren’t trying to outdo each other with cleverness.  Our purpose is to make up a story that tells of a positive action someone did.  The person receiving the story about them should feel great!  Maybe that’s the measure of the game.  

Thoughts on becoming a better partner

A Better Marriage: 

Five Ways to be a good husband or wife

Constructive Living reminds us that we can only improve ourselves. We can’t “fix” other people no matter how long or hard we try. So give up effort in trying to change your partner. If you want a better marriage do things that make you a more loving and thoughtful wife or husband. 

Here are five practical techniques: 

1. Become a world class listener. When your partner speaks shut down your inner monologue and respectfully really listen to what they are saying. Pay special attention if they mention likes/dislikes so that you can act on these when you can. Never interrupt. 

2. Create family rituals/routines and do them together. E.g. Make the bed together each morning. Hold hands when you say a grace or blessing. Create a “Friday night Pizza and Movie”. Go to the Farmer’s Market together on the weekend.

 3. Give to your partner. Give gifts, especially handmade (favorite cookies, a night at their favorite restaurant), Do “Secret Service” These are little surprises like filling up the car with gas, noticing that he/she has run out of a favorite soap and replacing it. Take care of something without mentioning it or taking credit. (An unpaid bill) If you “get caught” it’s okay to fess up. GIVE time to help them with projects. GIVE “Thanks” . . . . notice and thank specifically for little things as well as large. A wise man once said: “Give what you want to get.” 

4. Touch.: Hug, kiss, hold hands, Massage feet and shoulders. 

5. Offer to help them with their purposes. E.g. . . . wash his running clothes, buy her some special art supplies, etc. 

All these suggestions are within your power. You don’t have to wait for your spouse to change. The simple act of really listening can open new lines of communication. Don’t assume because you’ve heard this story before that you know it’s importance. Ask questions to discover why they love to tell this story. It is also a thoughtful thing to always consider the convenience of your spouse. Give them the tastiest piece of meat, the best seat at the table and the choice of what show to watch together. The more you focus on what you can give your partner I predict the stronger your marriage can become.

 Patricia Ryan Madson 

El Granada, CA 

May 20, 2023

The Culture of Improv

 Our Culture of Improv

 

What do we all need?  

 

To belong.  

To be safe. 

To be valued.  

To feel free to be yourself. 

To create without fear of judgement. 

To be surrounded by people who support you.  

To laugh uncontrollably at things that are genuinely funny.

To do all this with no special equipment or training. 

 

I just spent a weekend at Stanford when all the above were in play.  The occasion was the 32nd year Reunion of the Stanford Improvisors (Simps), a group I started in 1991 that thrives into today. The most recent count shows 376 members.

 

Thanks to the heroic work of three former Simps, Jessia Hoffman, Will Setrakian and Megan Calfas former group members from all over the country left their kids and day jobs to show up at the Elliot Program Center on campus. This simple, empty space with only metal chairs and folding tables became a sanctuary for connection and joyous reunion.  

 

On Thursday night we were feted with a delicious Mediterranean meal and the chance to mingle, hug and discover the names of old and new compatriots.  As we introduced ourselves in a quick “go around” we discovered Philosophy, Film, Engineering, Design and English professors, a Minister, a Pediatrician, a Primary Care Physician, Writers, Actors, a Climate change specialist, an Assistant US Attorney, a scientist working to make AI safer . . . and a host of other valuable professions.  It seems that improvising at university had prepared a gaggle of graduates to meet many of the needs of the world.

 

We came together because the culture of improv we learned and practiced while at Stanford as a part of this group had implanted in us life skills that addressed those “needs” mentioned in the first paragraph.  The cardinal rule of improvising is to say YES to life, to accept and build on others’ ideas. It’s impossible to imagine a more positive and uplifting assembly.

 

All day Friday we were treated to workshops that ranged from Playful Mindfulness to Puppetry.  After a wonderful Asian Box lunch, I held court to riff on the history of improv at Stanford and my delight in being with the new members of the group.

 

On Saturday there was an all-day marathon Theatresports tourney that featured 16 teams. Eight matches were played and adjudicated by triads of solemn judges.  After a sumptuous dinner of Thai food, we all attended the Final Championship round of the four highest scoring teams.  Each team was given one scene for their bid for the Champion title.  After some truly awesome improv, the team “THE FOUR PACK” (Lisa Rowland, Jenn Chou, Matty Merrill, and Max Sosna-Spear) won it ALL. Their “Scene, within a scene, within a scene” rocked it!!

 

What made this weekend magical? It was the experience of living and playing in a unique culture.  From the outset—

 the SIMPS have embodied a particular variety of improv culture.  It was (and continues to be) one of kindness.  While it is not unusual for any improv group to be agreeable folks, playful and talented at making up stories, what defines SIMPS is a way of working and playing that is unique.  Years ago, the group traveled south to LA to take part in a California improv festival.  When I spoke with one of the coordinators to check on how the group had performed, he said: “The Stanford Improvisors are the nicest group any of us have ever played with.” I can’t think of a higher compliment.  The nicest group.  Wonderful. Over the years this ephemeral quality has prevailed.  I don’t know how one teaches this, but clearly it has been passed along through the culture of kindness.

 

I can’t take any credit for this.  I simply planted a few seeds over thirty years ago. The garden has been thriving.  I marvel that we seem to have created a new species of flower: the culture of kindness. Thank you, SIMPS.

 

Patricia Ryan Madson

April 18, 2023

 

 

 

 

 

            

 

The passing of a mentor

“When the student is ready, the teacher will appear. .  .”

 

 

In the summer of 1980, I attended a Tai Chi workshop at Esalen with my teacher, Chiang Liang Al Huang.  Al was fond of inviting other interesting teachers to join him and do their thing to break up the day of dancing.  I was delighted to discover that his guest partner this summer was a charming Brit named Keith Johnstone who had just published a new book, Impro, in 1979. 

 

As the newly appointed head of the undergraduate acting program at Stanford in 1977 my most puzzling problem was how to get my bright young actors “out of their heads” and into their bodies and imaginations. Johnstone’s fresh take on acting descended precisely on cue in my life. I stayed up all night reading IMPRO.  It changed everything. The workshop was memorable and in a short time Keith and I became friends. 

 

I reveled in the chance to drive him around the Bay Area introducing him not only to theater people buy also to a few Zennies. Various groups adopted him. A notable workshop in the early ‘80’s was at the San Francisco Zen Center.  I’ll never forget Keith side coaching me and Reb Anderson playing the “hat game”. Reb became the Abbot a few years later. These were also the years that BATS was coming into being. In that decade I used every means available to bring Keith to the Bay Area to continue his lively work.  

 

Keith even flew in from Calgary to attend my wedding in St. Helena in 1989.

                                                                                                     

In the summer of 1993 Keith came to Stanford to hold court every morning as the featured professor for a weeklong Improv intensive. It was such a success that Keith came again in 1994.  Engineering professors attended these workshops and word spread fast that something special was happening over in the Drama Dept. Members of the BATS school joined the fun teaching specialty classes in the afternoon.  The summer intensive idea was then adopted by BATS who continued the tradition of a Keith-centered course.  The BATS summer school, featuring Keith, had become a centerpiece of their year.

 

It was always a happy moment when Keith would shuffle into the theater, sit on the edge

of the stage and sigh deeply as he surveyed the audience.  Looking slightly lost he would mumble something like: “You guys already know everything, so I don’t know what to teach you. (sighs heavily).  I suppose if you want to work on relationships or stories we can do some stuff.

I just need a couple people up here.”  And, off he’d go telling witty stories of people he knew or films he’d seen or read while side coaching the actors to “be average.”

 

Keith was an original.  He was one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. I believe that he finished his work on earth by seeding a thousand teachers of his life affirming notions of how theater should delight us and embolden the actor to give up fear of not being enough.  Keith was enough . . . and then some.

 

Patricia Ryan Madson

March 17, 2023, St, Patrick’s Day