You are Perfect Just As You Are

You are Perfect Just As You Are

In a good improv class you can discover a new sense of confidence.  This happens over time as you and your classmates experiment doing things, creating stuff, making mistakes, picking each other up and moving forward together.  What begins to happen is a growing understanding that you are okay.  This is an ordinary okay.  Playing games together brings out the body knowledge that when the chips are down you have what is needed.  John Tarrant’s said it perfectly:  “What if you already have what you need?”  Experiencing this truth is fundamental to an improv education.  

When we begin to succeed at solving problems on the fly, when we discover that a useful word emerges when you need it we begin to develop “reality confidence”—that is, we discover that we can rely on the world around us.  I learn that when I merge my intelligence with all the incoming data and offers to solve a problem or come up with a useful idea.  Improvising when the stakes are low (in a class, for example) creates confidence in our ability to act “in the real world.”

Beyond the discovery that we can act “on the fly” is the body knowledge that there is always something to work with.  Each of us has a light within.  The Japanese poet Linji said it well with this koan:

  

There is a solitary brightness without a fixed shape or form

It knows how to listen to the teachings.

It knows how to understand the teachings.

It knows how to teach.

That solitary brightness is you.

That “solitary brightness is you.”   Shine your light.  No one else can. Trust the light. You are perfect just as you are.

FINDING THE RIGHT IMPROV TEACHER

                     FINDING THE RIGHT IMPROV TEACHER

Since improv is trending in the media now and in pop film culture I thought I'd say a few words about finding the right fit. If you are considering taking an improv class here are some thoughts on finding a teacher:

I’m fond of saying that selecting an improv coach/teacher is very much like finding a therapist. One size doesn’t fit all. And there are hundreds of reasons to commence a class or workshop with improv in the title, and there are at least as many teaching styles and purposes. And, truth be told, anyone can call herself an “improv teacher.” There is no formal or even informal certification of those who put out the IMPROV shingle. I’ve known a young woman who had taken a single improv class, found it exciting, and then made up flyers to announce that she was teaching a six week class. And, I suppose it’s possible that she had a natural talent for understanding improv and that the class was terrific. Regardless of clocked hours or training and experience as an improviser, the measure of the value of an improv class is often personal. The operative question to ask an improv leader is: “What is your purpose in teaching this class?’ The answer will be revealing.

I recently attended a high level conference at Stanford University where I had taught for some years. The conference leader announced that there would be a session on improvisation following lunch. This pleased me, as a little dose of improv wisdom would be welcome at this rather academic day, curiously, on the topic of innovation. The young leader introduced herself and told us all that she was new to this, that she had never done this game before and was experimenting. Fair enough, I thought. I like it when improv teachers are themselves improvising. We all filed into a large open space in an adjoining room. We were given instructions to find a partner and to face each other and then take turns leading and following while making random movements. (This is the classic Mirror Game used for decades in actor training.) After a minute or so we were instructed to join with another pair making a foursome, still mirroring. “Add some noises,” she coached. This continued until the large group of 60 was in one big circle all mirroring. And, then abruptly, the leader said: “thank you.” It was all over. We all applauded as if we had done something extraordinary. That was the end of it. The organizer announced that the next session would start in ten minutes across the hall.

What had happened? The leader had simply set this activity in motion. Period. Besides “doing the Mirror Game” I don’t think our young leader had any purpose for this odd activity. What struck me was the waste. This game can teach a plethora of life lessons about self-other-power-control, and most of all about attention. At the very least it can be a jumping off place to discuss our fear of being observed or judged. (Everyone feels silly doing this at a conference.) What makes no sense is to simply do the game, sans instruction or debriefing. The game is not improv. We might as well have been playing hide and seek . . . which is at least a proper game. No doubt this young women had been introduced to this game by some acting or improv teacher and was confusing a tool with the learning.

For my money a good improv class has a balance between experience and reflection, with the emphasis on experience. Improv isn’t psychodrama, but failure to take note of the implications of what happens to us when we jump into the pool and try out new ways of thinking and doing is a missed opportunity.

For most of my beginning classes I invite the group to form a standing circle, take a moment to look around at who is in the room and then shake their bodies lightly. This is followed by a game called Sound Ball in which I begin by miming throwing a ball to someone in the circle accompanied by a random sound. “Whoosh,”. . . I shout (pretending to throw a ball) at Tom. Tom is instructed to catch the ball in real time while repeating the sound that I threw. “Whoosh,” says Tom, pretending to catch the ball. Then Tom needs to make eye contact with another player across the circle, and throw some new random sound, miming the pitch. “Burrrumph,” calls Tom, throwing to Adele. Without a beat, Adele, shouts, ‘”Zzzzing” miming throwing to Sam. “Oooops, Adele,” I counsel, “you forgot to catch first.” “Oh, she observes, “right,” and she makes the correction. “Burrumph” says Adele and then, turns back to Sam and continues the new sound: “ZZZZZZing.” And so on.

I pace the game to get faster, and within minutes I throw in a second Sound

Ball, just to up the anti. Everyone laughs as they realize what is happening. “Oh, no, two balls!!” someone inevitably yells out. “Right!” I reply, “you can count on chaos! I want it to be a challenge.”

And on we go continuing to toss and catch noises, and later words and phrases. The game, the activity of throwing and repeating sounds, is simple enough to understand. Most new students struggle with it . . . for a variety of reasons. These “problems” become the lesson. “So, what were some of the issues that made this a challenge?” I ask.

“I had trouble finding someone to throw it to. No one was looking at me.”

“I wasn’t sure what the sound was.”

“I was trying to ‘come up with’ a good sound nobody had used.”

“I was feeling stressed because it was so out of control.”

“I had two balls at the same time!”

“These are terrific problems. They are all natural, by the way. It’s normal to try and ‘be prepared’ when we have to do something. However, if you are using your mind to think of a ‘good sound’ it is likely you aren’t paying full attention to what’s coming at you. Most of us are busy preparing how we will react (what sound to use) and its easy to miss what is coming at you,” I counsel. How much are we missing in life while preparing what we will say next?

Of course, each of us is wrestling with his own demons, and problems with the work varies. A skillful teacher is noticing what parts of the simple process unleashed by the game need attention and correction. What is key here is to underscore that beginning improv work is all about process and not about content. We are free to utter whatever smart or nonsense sound appears. We begin to exercise the spontaneity muscle and execute before we’ve “decided” what is a good idea/word/sound.

Adam Tobin, a former student who is now the head of the Screenwriter’s Program at Stanford had this insight about teachers of improv. Each of us is teaching with a unique voice. The same game taught by different instructors yields different life lessons. Our “voice” in the classroom reflects our values and our purposes. There are many insights that can emerge from playing the same game.

It’s wise to check out the teacher’s voice to see if it resonates with your purposes for studying improv. A good fit can produce profound learning.

Teaching Kindness

 Teaching Kindness – Improv, a Venue for Values 

 

On a cool December night, the line outside of the Noh Stage Theater was long waiting to get in to see Awkward Dinner Party, an unusual long form improvisation format with a three-person cast.  The lady standing behind me struck up a conversation.  She wanted to sing the praises of Lisa Rowland, one of the principals of the improv show-- “She is really brilliant as a teacher and more importantly I admire her as a person.  I mean, she is just so good, so kind and so positive.  Lisa is an amazing teacher, and an awesome human being.”  I nodded agreement, mentioning that she had been one of my students at Stanford. We were both fans.

 

Lisa comes from the crucible of the Stanford Improvisers, a group I founded in 1991.  They have the reputation of being “the nicest group to play with.”  I was always pleased and flattered by that appellation.  More important than being funny, is being kind, nice, easy and thoughtful to play with.  Yup, the SIMPS were the nicest group at any tournament. 

 

At the heart of our work as improv teachers is the possibility to change the world.  We do this both by modeling the behaviors we want to teach as well as finding ways both indirect and direct to teach them.  Whether we acknowledge it or not all teaching is value laden, so why not teach the virtues our society needs?  Everyone wants to have more positive social and interpersonal interactions, but they don’t know how.  Many of us are stuck in old patterns of reacting.  Improv provides a canvas upon which we can teach people how to listen better and be kinder to each other. 

 

I teach a workshop called: “Working with difficult people.”  Everyone shows up for this.  And, then there’s a bit of bait and switch.  Once in the room I tell everyone that the only difficult person they can change is themselves.

 

It’s easy to see that selfishness and self-interest is at the root of many of our social problems.  Everyone wants a more satisfying life.  How does kindness fit into this? Improv can be both a metaphor and a tool to discover a kinder version of youself.  

 

As a tool the games can be used to lift others up or cut each other down.  If you study comedy, you’ll soon discover that the quickest way to get a laugh is to put someone else down.  “Hay, there, fellow, that’s a nice dog you’ve got there.  That’s no dog, that’s my wife.” 🤣🤣🤣 (a double put down.)

 

I once taught an offsite workshop to a group of middle managers at a famous tech company in Silicon Valley.  Team building was the subject of our work together. The leader had warned me that they were unable to agree on anything.  And, it seems that improv was the only workshop that they did not reject.  They thought it would be fun at least.

 

On the Saturday morning of our off-site workshop we all showed up at the fancy hotel conference room, replete with the obligatory deluxe breakfast buffet.  After the mingling about and swilling down coffee and smoked salmon on bagels we got the workshop going.  “If you’d please join me now in a circle we can “let the games” begin.  I often start with a simple game called “Sound Ball” where we pretend to throw a sound (miming the action of throwing a ball).  The person that it is thrown to mimes catching the ball and repeats the sound that was thrown.  Then the receiver throws a new sound to someone else, etc. and the throwing and catching continues.  It’s a very simple game but brings up lots of issues typically.  As we played, I side-coached.  I’d suggest: “Become a good catcher.”  Pay more attention to receiving than to sending something creative.  It’s common for folks to think ahead to come up with an interesting sound when it came their turn.  This act of “choosing a good sound” commonly interferes with the attention needed to catch or field the balls.  So, from time to time in the game I’d cheerfully make suggestions about shifting one’s attention from self to the others in the circle.  

 

Half an hour in, at a break, the man who had hired me to lead the workshop took me aside to give me some instructions: (I’ll never forget his words.)  “Nix on all that good advice, lets get on with the fun and games.”   He simply wanted to do improv games so that they could make jokes and one-up each other.  They were actually skillful at putting each other down.  Cooperation seemed like some distant dream.  (Think our current political divide.)  Since he was the boss I pulled back on the “good advice” part of my teaching.  Sad really.  Improv could help a situation like this.  In my introduction class I remind us that sarcasm, which is a common form of “clever exchange” is a kind of poison in an improv world. Its function is a put down. It can create comedy, but rarely good-will.  I once saw a bumper sticker that read: :  “Tact is for people not witty enough to be sarcastic.  Sarcasm is for people not intelligent enough to be tactful.” If we encourage or foster sarcasm, we are in danger of giving them strategies for cruelty.

 

An improv class is a place to build trust and safety. We learn to eschew the easy laugh that comes from blocking an offer

 

Over time improv can turn a group of normal, selfish bozos into a team of agreeable, cooperative, resourceful bozos.  Self interest is normal.  With improv games we can make interest in one’s fellows into something that is attractive, productive and doable.

 

What  are some strategies for teaching kindness? 

 

1.     Status games that focus on raising the status of the other person

2.     Games that focus on “thank you” and “I’m sorry” (Do as a circle)

a.  “Thanks to whom are we here today” 

3.     Random Acts of Kindness Stories

4.     Any game can be debriefed with instructions that focus on ‘taking care of the other person.”

5.     Teambuilding games ( the A B C game—sharing control)

6.     Ball Games can be debriefed to suggest that we “focus on being a good receiver, smile to make others feel good and never correct.”

 

Have a discussion about how self interest is normal, and how shifting the attention to your partner produces good will and cooperation.

 

Kindness can also be manifest in the kinds of characters that we play in scenes.  Suggest that characters can have high moral standards.  Good stories often have villains or “bad guys.”  But don’t confuse this with just being stubborn or argumentative.  Keep your humanity.  Chose to play heroes. We all love heroes.  The best heroes aren’t the superhero brand, but ordinary folks.