I don't like the harold.

[TexasImprovMassacre]

But in performance, it's dreadful. The interregnums are breaks in the action and not as funny as the in-between bits. The in-between bits don't flow organically from one to the next.

What about it is done well and those things do flow organically and everything works?

[Justin D.]

modified Harold?

Standup, sketch, pottery and cutting your fingernails can all be argued as a modified Harold if you're willing to take it far enough.

Yep. I was making a reference to "that other thread".

[York99]

modified Harold?

Standup, sketch, pottery and cutting your fingernails can all be argued as a modified Harold if you're willing to take it far enough.

Yep. I was making a reference to "that other thread".

You've mad a fool of me for the last time, Davis. Prepare yourself to rue something... perhaps the day.

[LuBu McJohnson]

Yeah, I'm not a fan of the games either. Usually at the end of the first beat I've got something in mind for the second and I've been in games where I actually forgot what I wanted to do afterward and was then left naked on stage. It was hot...but absolutely did NOT benefit the show.

I like it without the games...what is that? A Triptych? I just call it "Three sets of scenes that are about a thing or things and they might intertwine throughout or at the end and frankly I don't give a fuck if it does or not fuck you."

[ChrisTrew.Com]

I'm in the "as long as the group game has everyone on stage working together it's the 'group game'" camp. It's like taking the suggestion of a location where 10 people might be, and doing an opening and two group games where all ten people are in that location just doing a group scene. Bang, done.

Over-thinking group games happens often, imo.

[jose]

Hey, all!

Hope everyone's doing well!

I unabashedly love Harold.

So, what I say will probably be (and maybe should be) taken with a grain of salt by folks whose feelings on Harold range from mere indifference or lack of understanding, to pure, seething hate for it. (Not that anyone has expressed the latter here - it's just that some folks do actually hate Harold, which seems about as fun and helpful as hating a volcano.)

Harold, to me, has become the prism through which I see longform improvisation. The elements that I believe that Harold fosters, encourages, rewards, and showcases (the exploration of characters, relationships, themes, and achieving them through the playfulness and fearlearness of strong choices made by individuals and the group mind, among others) are pretty awesome. When I see all that come to fruition (to different degrees) in other longforms, I tend to thing that it's a good performance regardless of the specific form being performed. (In other, more clear terms, I see elements of Harold pop up in forms that are distinctly not Harold.)

Above all, though, Harold, is about the truth(s) (small and great) that unfold/s when a group of people come together, trust their instincts and impulses, make strong committed choices, and play to the top of their intelligence and integrity. In the spirit of agreement and yesand, a group of people (regardless of numbers) create and explore by treating their fellow players like poets and geniuses, and eating their own fear and doing awesome things, bolstered by their fellow players regarding them as the same.

I think that the difficulty for some folks comes with the fact that Harold can be the palette, the brush, and the resultant painting of longform improvisational theatre, comedy, and performance. Sometimes, it is, somehow, all three at once.

I think another point of difficulty for some folks, both audiences and performers, is that how Harold is described and taught, or whatever expectations have been laid out, can sometimes seem a little rigid (even if in that specific structure that's taught, there's really a lot of freedom). I like how Kevin Mullaney, former IO and UCB stalwart (and creator of the IRC), mentions that Harold isn't so much a boring blueprint to be followed as an interesting, challenging puzzle to put together.

I think one of my favorite parts of Harold is the idea that every part of it, whether part of the initial, agreed-upon structure, or generated organically, is important no matter how seemingly insignificant or accidental. Somehow, even if we might not ever understand it, every piece plays its role. I think that requires a lot of trust from us ... it requires trust in ourselves and in the group as performers, and it requires trusting the audience's intelligence to process and get what's going on. Just as a work of visual art might elicit different reactions, understandings, or interpretations, I think a good Harold makes a similar impact, even when more abstract elements pop up.

That brings me to the group games, which have been mentioned a few times in this thread and which can be a bit abstract sometimes and seemingly unrelated. For me, they're not just simply "chapter markers" of where a group is in a Harold; they're essential to the whole performance, thriving on what's been created before them and helping fuel what will come afterwards.

Group games have a handful of purposes, but I think their greatest purpose is to reconnect to the group mind. After the opening, folks break off into scenes with fewer people. It's nice to stir up the group energy and fun, and to reconnect with that source of improv goodness.

For audiences, I think they're smart enough to realize that when something is done on stage that, even when it's improvised, it's being done on purpose. So, I kind of trust that they take those group games and kind of try to figure out how they fit into the mix. The human mind is great at trying to make sense of things and creating contexts and meaning. So, they might see things that are there that we (performers) can't or didn't explicitly intend. That's pretty exciting!

For performers, I think group games are an opportunity to just jump in, stir things up, and be affected rather than to consider them an interruption of your flow. As much as one might have an idea, I think group games have the potential to highlight and heighten themes, emotions, and the playfulness that a second beat scene might need even more than whatever your idea was at the end of the first beat scene.

I'm glad I reviewed the thread because Arthur said:

The (group mind) is, I feel, the heart and soul of Del's contribution to improv, and the one that is bastardized more often than not. It's very tough for some people because they're a) thinking too hard b) wanting to be the star c) hesitant to trust completely in the group mind.

Jumping into those group games is the process of shaking off thinking too hard and trusting that the group mind will guide you to what's really needed.

It can be difficult to let go of those lines that we think will sound great or those ideas that we think would be perfect to follow up on. I think that's what's really difficult about Harold to get used to - you really have to let go and immerse yourself in the process. Even if folks set out to execute a by-the-book textbook / teaching Harold, outside of (or, I guess, within) that structure there's a lot that's open. There's no exact or specific (external) cues as to what the content has to be, what directions things have to head, or how things will end up, and I can see how that can be daunting or dismaying to some performers. I can understand how that doesn't always result in a show that's completely satisfying as an audience member, especially if A) it's a clunky show and B) an audience is expecting something that plays out like traditional scripted theatre.

Letting go of things and those notions, though, is where the danger, fun, and risk is, which is also what I love about Harold. I think there are other forms, structures, and formats that kind of engender the idea that you can do that respective form, structure, or format perfectly, or at least lays out a greater degree of certainity to them and fulfilling that certainty becomes a goal. With Harold, there isn't that sense, I don't think ... especially since the group mind definitely has the potential to mutate the form organically as needed.

Where some forms / structures / formats follow a map to what's considered a hoped-for or perfect destination, I think Harold is the idea that the journey is more important than any particular destination. The destination ends up being perfect as a result of the full commitment to the journey, via a map that's been spontaneously created with the group mind.

I could probably go and on and on ... so, I'll stop.

In the end, I think it's a matter of what turns you on and doing what you love, and doing that with people you care about. For some folks, that will include Harold. For some folks, it won't. Hooray for everyone doing something other than endlessly sitting in front of a television!

[Marc Majcher]

I fucking hate volcanoes. GOD!

[York99]

That brings me to the group games, which have been mentioned a few times in this thread and which can be a bit abstract sometimes and seemingly unrelated. For me, they're not just simply "chapter markers" of where a group is in a Harold; they're essential to the whole performance, thriving on what's been created before them and helping fuel what will come afterwards.

Group games have a handful of purposes, but I think their greatest purpose is to reconnect to the group mind. After the opening, folks break off into scenes with fewer people. It's nice to stir up the group energy and fun, and to reconnect with that source of improv goodness.

Let me play devil's advocate here:

Some approach group games as important to the piece, as you describe above. Some approach group games as a palate cleanser -- something just to reconnect the players. Still others approach it as a way to reconnect with the suggestion.

If you take approach A, then you allow for the neglect of B and C. If you take B, you allow for the neglect of A and B. And so on for C. So if you can do a Harold without 'cleansing the palate' (A & C) without reconnecting with the suggestion (A & B) and without how you described it (B & C) then it stands to reason that none of them are necessary for a Harold.

Improvisers are taught to accept things and justify them. What if group games were just a "mistake" that improvisers accepted a long time ago and have been justifying ever since?

** I should repeat my disclaimer that I struggle with group games in many respects. I'm looking for and hoping for a satisfactory reason why these arguments I present are wrong.

[kaci_beeler]

In the end, it's just a structure.
It doesn't naturally have any weight or worth on its own. You give it weight and worth.
You are the key to its success or failure. It's just a structure, just like any other structure. Something to give us focus on that blank stage.

[bradisntclever]

In the end, it's just a structure.
It doesn't naturally have any weight or worth on its own. You give it weight and worth.
You are the key to its success or failure. It's just a structure, just like any other structure. Something to give us focus on that blank stage.

Get your rational thoughts out of here!

[jose]

Let me play devil's advocate here:

Some approach group games as important to the piece, as you describe above. Some approach group games as a palate cleanser -- something just to reconnect the players. Still others approach it as a way to reconnect with the suggestion.

If you take approach A, then you allow for the neglect of B and C. If you take B, you allow for the neglect of A and B. And so on for C. So if you can do a Harold without 'cleansing the palate' (A & C) without reconnecting with the suggestion (A & B) and without how you described it (B & C) then it stands to reason that none of them are necessary for a Harold.

Improvisers are taught to accept things and justify them. What if group games were just a "mistake" that improvisers accepted a long time ago and have been justifying ever since?

Hm - this is exciting!

I guess, I've just never thought of the various purposes of a group game as being dichotomous (tri-chotomous in this case, multi-chotomous in the spectrum of purposes I suppose). I don't see why A, B, and C can't be a focus on their own respectively without entirely neglecting the other elements.

I personally see re-connecting to the group / group mind as group games' most important function, but I think the other elements can be important and play a role in connecting to the group mind and are important to the show as a whole.

If we consider the purpose of clothing, I think we could come to some sort of agreement that its main purpose is to cover our bodies (whether for protection, or modesty, or a little bit of both). Clearly, though, since the days of fur loin cloths, many other purposes have developed and become prominent and important. Certain clothing has been developed to be more functional or appropriate for certain events / contexts (gear for labor, sportswear, ball gowns, etc.) and people even use clothing as a form of self-expression (via style of dress, direct communication via logos and words, etc.).

As clothing and our notions of it have evolved, all of those purposes have become significant and important. So it goes with group games, I'd posit.

As far as the specific elements that we've discussed (A, B, C), I guess I just look at them like ingredients in soup and each performance of a group game is an emergent recipe of having those ingredients in different proportions.

(Sidenote: I personally feel that everything that happens in a performance is an important part of the piece and has its purpose. If someone is compelled to break out of a scene to do a quick monologue and returns to the scene (even when that's not a normal convention / technique of whatever form they're doing), I believe that there's a reason for it and that it plays a role in the greater whole of the performance.)

For me, even though it doesn't diminish the importance of the other purposes, connecting to the group seems such an essential part of the "soup" that I'd consider it the water.

So, when you mention in your example that you can neglect connecting to the group (thus rendering that purpose / element inessential), I guess that's where I disagree.

How can you have a group game / scene and not be connected to the other players? I realize that that can actually seemingly happen, but ...

I think if there's a group performance, there's a group energy to it. When they reconvene altogether on stage, I think there are varying levels of reconnecting to it but that in itself affects the group energy and it's always connecting the group.

I think that's why it's so important to listen, commit to, and invest in what's going on, even when you're not on stage - you're committing to the group mind / energy and your level of connection affects that group mind / energy. (Is there some technological equivalent to that? How do torrents work? Nevermind - that's what Google is for!)

(I realize that to some folks that sound hippy-dippy, artsy, or pseudo-scientifical or whatever, but ...)

I don't know ... hm ... do the Beatles ever not-exist?

Obviously, they're not a group that is physically together and that hangs out and records music together, but do they not-exist?

So goes my feeling about the group dynamic / group energy / group mind, so that when there's a group game you can't really excise connecting to the group as an element of it.

As far as whether group games were a mistake that got justified - it's a neat idea and if it happened, awesome! There are times when just because something was unintended, it doesn't mean it's a mistake.

(Also, it's kind of a huge hypothetical.)

I heard that when someone first used a tagout (after watching Jazz Freddy) in one of Del's classes, he threw a fit. Del, though, reportedly came around to recognizing that it could be useful as a technique (whether for a quick walk-on or as an editing device) and allowed for their use in his classes and in performances.

I know that a group game as an essential part of Harold is quite different than just the technical use of a tagout, but you get my gist, I hope.

Go grab some water, folks!

[jose]

In the end, it's just a structure.
It doesn't naturally have any weight or worth on its own. You give it weight and worth.
You are the key to its success or failure. It's just a structure, just like any other structure. Something to give us focus on that blank stage.

I agree! Rational thoughts have no place here!

I pretty much agree with you, Kaci, in terms of performance. Regardless of the form / format / structure, if it's not happening with the players, it's not happening.

I think too, though, that the historical significance /value of Harold is something that's pretty sweet. It wasn't just commedia. It wasn't merely improvising between beats or a scenario play. Harold was a way to foster a full-length improvised performance and paved the way.

[Milquetoast]

I've been drinking. Caveat spoken.

I greatly enjoy this discussion because I had a similar one the other day about the invocation (I like it, new teacher says it's dumb). I personally love improv when it allows me to step sideways and make associations outside the realm of normal interaction, when it allows me to really be expressed and look at things in a new light. I remember I was absolutely delighted that the deconstruction allowed me to do scenes where I was a muffin. I like when the structure serves me, and not when I serve the structure, which sums up my feelings on Harold. It's all in the execution.

By the way, Harold is mostly what you see out here in LA. It feels like there's less experimentation going on, but I haven't seen a show at Bang! yet. Maybe they're up to magical adventures.

[jose]

Drew!

I greatly enjoy this discussion because I had a similar one the other day about the invocation (I like it, new teacher says it's dumb).

Gasp! I love the Invocation, too!

I know a lot of folks don't like Invocation (and, usually, I think, openings in general). It takes absolute, full commitment to make it work. Because of that, people sometimes see Invocations that don't work and they assume that it just doesn't work. So, the next time they actually have to do one, they tend to not fully commit, expecting it not to work. It's a vicious cycle of half-assed commitment!

I like when the structure serves me, and not when I serve the structure, which sums up my feelings on Harold. It's all in the execution.

Absolutely!

[Milquetoast]

I think the same thing happens with Zip Zap Zop...

no, seriously! People think it's dumb so it doesn't work. Vicious cycle!

Jose! Come visit LA. We'll go to alcohol!