i was reading the Merlin Works newsletter, and i loved Shana's article about nothing! (for those who haven't read it, yes it's an article about nothing. nothing at all. check it out) i like the idea of just being comfortable with nothing.
but here's my question...
i am a beginner improviser, and lots of improv teachers have really stressed the importance of quickly establishing character, relationship, place, and objective. (isn't that something?)
and we've all played that game where you try to establish those things in only two or three lines.
so...do i do nothing, or do i try to establish these things asap?
This came up in a level 2 class I was teaching recently.
What I basically realized, and told the students, was that we do these 3 line drills to train the brain to know where you are. It's ok to not blurt it out in the first three lines, but it can be distracting to you if you don't know where you are, who you are, or why you know the person on stage. The more you run those drills, the more your brain will start to "see" things on stage, you'll know the who what where details without feeling like you're inventing it.
You work your life away and what do they give?
You're only killing yourself to live
Absolutely, Kareem! What started happening to me a couple years ago was I started getting little notes in my head telling me what to do in a scene. Sort of an improv shorthand guiding me on what to do..what the scene needed, what I needed, what my partner might want. Notes like, "change your status" or "make an emotional noise" or "pick up something off the floor." These notes came about because I started getting into scenes more and really "being" in the scene. I loosened up and started trusting that I knew a lot of the elements of improv--not rules, elements.
I get those notes every now and ten, but I'm starting to just react in scenes and do what may be needed without the notes.
So, yeah, work on that CROWE stuff until it starts to become second nature. It will happen if you work on it.
Sometimes it's a form of love just to talk to somebody that you have nothing in common with and still be fascinated by their presence.
--David Byrne
I think "nothing" can also mean, "stick to the first offer" (aka "stick to your shit"). That first thing that comes out of your or your scene partner's mouth, or that you/he/she feels, or that you do... any of that could be what the scene is about and it'd be a good scene. Whatever just happened is a good idea - even though you may think its too BORING - if you say YES to it, deepen it, and then react to it. And btw, the audience saw that first part of your scene, so like a good writer, USE IT. You want to economize your scenes to make them look scripted, even though they are UNscripted.
I'm horrible at this, btw. I get nervous and I get chatty. Or freeze and do nothing, not even take the time to think about where I am, who I am, or who I am relating to in the scene. I think the drilling helps, but I know others hate it.
And HEY! "boring" is good way to establish contrast in a scene in which you LATER want something to happen. That's a common story device. But so is leaping into action or trouble or conflict... then rewinding to find out how you got there.
HOWEVER, to do something ALWAYS means it's not improvised. So you don't want to ALWAYS start scenes like this. Usually we RARELY start these kinds of scenes. Instead, think of "nothing" as a tool in your toolbelt.
Also, I worked some scenes with a teacher who had us run the same scene start over and over... yet we all got different results:
(A has just brought B back to A's apartment)
A - Come in
B - Nice place
A - I like it. Want a whisky?
B - Yes, please.
(A goes over to fix B a drink)
After this, we were free to say whatever. Whatever we said first after the scripted lines became what the scene would be about. It was amazing how the scenes were different, and that each one was engaging.
Keep in mind that exercises played in classes and jams are often purposeful distortions of real performance situation.
Sometimes teachers forget to remind students that we are purposefully and artificially heightening certain situations, isolating some elements, nixing others, and creating a controlled environment in order to focus on just one skill. But then we expect you to take that skill back "into the wilds" where nothing is controlled and anything can happen and expect you to merge all these tools wisely and to great dramatic effect.
In essence, we are cruel, sick bastards.
This is true whether we are forcing you to deal with nothingness by not letting you talk for 30 seconds or making you latch on to the first mundane offer and do a purposefully boring scene or whether we are making you establish 2 character names, 2 character objectives, a location, a relationship, and maybe even 2 character emotional states in 20 words or less.
Three line scene starts are a prime example.
We are forcing you to express 4, 5, 8 ideas in three quick lines. No distraction, no tangential information, sometimes not even spacework. And we do this to remind you that it often helps you and your scene partner to know certain things as soon as possible in order to work with them. You can't manipulate the unknown.
If you never establish your relationship clearly then either you wander through the scene without emotional connection and without a powerful change in that relationship, or you both assume two different relationships and play out two different scenes ("I thought we were lovers!" "I thought we were brothers!"). It is about getting on the same page. But even more importantly than getting actors on the same page, for me, it is about grounding the audience.
The audience *wants* to invest in these characters. Hell, they just paid $10 to see a show, they *want* to connect with it. But humans are, by nature, hesitant beings. Before our lizard-brains will declare the situation safe enough to drop one's guard, we have a primal need to know certain things about the context.
(Watch animals, the first time a strange person gives them a strange treat, they don't trot up and wolf it down. They examine the person, they sniff the food, they may pick it up and drop it. Is this safe? What do they want from me? What do I want from them? That animal IS the audience. Once you help them through that initial hesitation, they'll take the next treat without question and with tail wagging.)
For me, getting CROW out early is about grounding the audience more than my fellow player (we're trained to roll with chaos and uncertainty, the audience is not). Establishment allows the audience to engage with the scene sooner, ask more complex questions of the characters and plot, and experience more complex emotions because they aren't still looking for that basic information of who are these people and why do I care?
I think Shana's point about nothingness is that you shouldn't get too in your head about what needs to happen, to question if what has already happened is "good" enough, to be rushing to get to the next something. It is about taking one's time, using the space and weight of silence when appropriate, latching on to that early idea and just letting it take seed and evolve. Trusting that something will happen and not trying to force it to happen. about not over-worrying about whether the audience is engaged or not to the point that you actually disengage them with sensory overload. Too often, you see improvisers rushing through a scene, panicking, darting from idea to idea. Nothingness is about slowing that all down.
And I agree, the audience can like nothingness for a while. They will give you the benefit of the doubt. You can stay totally silent for 30 seconds or just do some spacework and mumble to yourself and they will wait. Eventually, though, something has to happen. It's when it does that I think the other tools kick in.
In the end, though, here's how I see it. It is all about information. And nothingness, used properly, IS information. You want to find that synthesis of all things, where information is conveyed as early as possible, but not rushed for the sake of being rushed and where vocalization is not the only form of information being offered up. That the first (or first meaningful) line a dialogue might not happen until a minute into the scene and that's OK. THAT says something about these people and this situation. You don't need to rush to establish anything, but personally, when I do establish something, I try to establish CROW first, even if subtly.
"I do."
--Christina de Roos . . . Bain . . . Christina Bain
Maybe a better expression than "doing nothing" is "cultivating unhurriedness." Here is a masterful demonstration of unhurriedness - VAROOM!'s performance at this year's Out of Bounds Festival.
There is never really a moment when "nothing" is happening, but the set is filled with quiet moments of observation and reaction.
Notice how one character gets a huge laugh out of doing nothing more than walking on stage, observing the other two characters, and then exiting.
What is to give light must endure burning. - Viktor Frankl
I'm with terp. I think the most important thing is not to worry about it too much.
I agree with Sarah. You should give yourself something. Anything. It doesn't have to be a who, a what, where, and a why all at once. Just make a choice and commit to it. I think the key is understanding the scene. Defining those crowe elements helps you understand the scene, but isn't such a necesity that scenes fall apart without those elements. If you've made a strong enough choice about who you are that you know what to do in the scene...that should be enough. Its when you lose sight of your decisions that they stop feeding your inspriation of what to say and do.
I agree with Wess that being subtle about it feels the best, but don't be affraid to decide where you are, or who you are, or to want something in explicit ways.
The reason you make those crowe choices, in my mind, is so that you have something. The more decisions you and your scene partner make and agree upon about the scene, the more you know about it, and the easier the scene becomes to play. However, that goes for any decision you make and really stick to.
I feel that the longer I've done improv the more I've been able to feel all of these contextual things without having to vocalize them. Plenty can be said without saying anything. Body language, energy,proximity, object work all convey things that give the scene context in a way that is extremely powerful...How you do what you decide to do is wildly important. So, I'd say don't worry to much about what crowe elements you are defining about the scene , and if you've defined enough...just continue to make decisions, and invest in them. Play them for real. The audience is looking to figure it out, and they'll be able to do that without you worrying to much about spelling everything out. If your making strong choices and playing it real, not only will they get what the scene is about, but they won't care if they don't know where you are or what your occupation is
Last edited by TexasImprovMassacre on October 23rd, 2008, 2:14 am, edited 4 times in total.
Worrying about trying to make all the CROWE obvious in the first few moments can put a person in her head and take her out of the moments that are happening now. Also, worrying too much about doing the right thing with your partner...what are we creating...puts a person in her head too. Like Cody said, the moment you are on stage, you are in a scene...and no matter what you do, no matter how slight it is should inform you and your partner.
Sometimes it's a form of love just to talk to somebody that you have nothing in common with and still be fascinated by their presence.
--David Byrne
The reason why I think establishing CROW (Character, Relationship, Objective, Where) is important, and why I like to run the drills, is because everyone knowing (you, you scene partner, the audience) the general basis and world of your scene will help them and you to better relax and play onstage. You'll have more to work with, and hopefully spend less time in your head or making second guesses.
Situations made clearer become more real in the audience's head.
Now when I say "real" I don't always mean "realism" or "realistic acting", real to the scene can also mean a stylistic choice - like a more abstracted scene, or a specific style of speaking and moving. You know, real to the improvisers acting the scene, making the piece of theatre more real, believable, in the audience's minds. Making the work more honest, more inspired.
We want the audience to invest in our scenes, in our work. We want them to follow us and pay attention and delight when we delight - else, why are they there, watching? When we're ignorantly oblivious of who we are and where we are and what we're doing in a scene, the audience gets confused, and begins making a million guesses in their minds as to what is happening, and why this dialog is important to this situation. When they're thinking of these million possibilities because you have not clarified it for them, they're not fully investing in your work. They can't, unless they are mind readers or something or know you and think whatever you do onstage is cute.
And this lack of definition is not only causing confusion for the audience, it can cause a lack of inspiration for you in your scenes. Ever felt like you were floundering in a scene, looking for something to latch on to and not quite finding it? I assume we've all felt this way at some point in our improv education, I know that I've certainly had that experience onstage and in rehearsals and classes. Well, if you both knew where you were, and who you were, and who you were to each other, and what you wanted, there is a wealth of information to draw on! Endless possibilities from a limited amount of information (really, CROW is not that much, it's the very basics, though I know it seems like a lot when you try and get it out in three lines).
Like Kathy pointed out, the improvisers in the Varoom are very patient at times, very entertaining, and they don't always let the audience know every aspect of CROW. Sometimes, I think it's on purpose, because they feel like having a little vignette, and they leave it up to the audience to fill in the missing elements of CROW with their own ideas, and other times, a happy accident that they just went with. Some of the most engaging scenes they play are made all the richer because we know he's an old man in a nursing home, we know it, he knows, we see and believe.
I know from my own personal experience, when I watch improv shows and scenes, I get sidetracked by extreme miscommunications between the players. They never clearly defined the space or who they were, and now player B obviously thinks player A is a woman, while player A thinks he's player B's father. It may be funny for a second, but eventually the breakdown in the communication leads to the death of the scene. And I'm sitting there, unable to invest in the dialog or actions between the players because I can't help but think, "Wait - I think she's his girlfriend, but he's acting like...she's his father?"
If the players realized this early on, it could be clarified and used as a fun way to justify this bizarre relationship. Left unclarified, I can see the audience checking their watches and shifting in their seats and the players hesitating more and more onstage as they puzzle out the situation in their heads.
Ingraining the ideas of CROW into my improv "toolbelt" has really helped me to quickly adapt to scene work, and to find inspiration in any situation, and with any partner.
Yes, getting out of your head and not worrying is important. Having fun is important. But I feel that for some improvisers, it is harder for them to achieve those two things (and the eventual sweet moments of nothingness) without first deeply understanding these basics of a scene set-up.
Man, this stuff gets really complex when you get into it. It's kinda hard to convey all that I think about CROW, even though I've written this long account over the past hour.
ChrisTrew.Com wrote:Have fun and don't think about it too much.
yes.
also I think things like name, place, objective, location.... and other endowments are really just there to make it easier to be in the moment, and hey... if the moment calls for it... do "nothing." If I know who I'm talking to, and I know how I feel about them, it's much easier to react in the moment. To me that's what improv is about.
ChrisTrew.Com wrote:Have fun and don't think about it too much.
yes.
also I think things like name, place, objective, location.... and other endowments are really just there to make it easier to be in the moment, and hey... if the moment calls for it... do "nothing." If I know who I'm talking to, and I know how I feel about them, it's much easier to react in the moment. To me that's what improv is about.
Agreed! As the guy in the scene in the article, I can say that I always just try to have fun and not overthink things. That is what I was doing while smoking the cigarette. However, that would not have been a viable option for me if I didn't have complete trust that my fellow players would bring the other things the scene needed while giving me space to just be in that character.
-Ted
"I don't use the accident. I create the accident." -Jackson's Polyp
I agree with a lot of what kaci said. Particularly defining what she meant as playing things real.
I don't think the audience panics as much as she has suggested though when stuff remains undefined. When there are the miscommunications that she goes on to describe, those are different than not describing them. That's more a result of players not listening to everything the other person says. Listening with their ears and their eyes!
I know what she's saying, and she's right that those miscommunications are uncomfortable for the audience, and it takes them out of the piece. I also entirely agree that it does help you to make decisions about all of those elements.
I usually throw an E on the end of my crowe for Emotion. Those elements are great to have. They all work to inform each other. I believe emotion is usually the one I go to first. Its fun to heighten, and powerful to realize.
Still, I feel like those things unanswered aren't always a bad thing that you have to worry about. Its great if you can nail it down in the first 3 lines, or even in a single line. But all it really takes is one strong decision to start playing. I used to worry about having to answer all that right away. So much so that it invaded my ability to be creative because i was consciously demanding of myself in my head to answer all of those questions. I was asking myself questions instead of making decisions about them. That feels like time wasted second guessing myself. It also hinders my commitment.
So I say fuck it. When i watch bassprov i'm not thinking about if they are on a dock or in a boat. I know they're fishing. I'm not sure if they're brothers, or co-workers...sometimes for the first 10 minutes, and i'm still completely invested in them because they have invested in what they have given themselves. Therefore, of course Kaci is also right when she says that the more you give yourself, the more you have to play with. ha, but don't worry about something that you don't have. If you want it, make it happen. In improv there are always a million ways to get what you want (i've counted). It merely takes you doing it.
Don't worry. Party.
I love watching tj and dave not worry. I remember a show where all I knew about the characters for the first 5 minutes was that something flew into Dave's eye, and that the two of them liked each other because they were talking nicely about it and not brawling. It was wonderful and engaging improv. But they let those crowe elements come to them naturally. Nothingness builds suspense...a desire to know...but if what you are giving them is good enough, they won't be concerned with what they don't have in a way that takes them out of the scene. Instead, they're likely to be drawn further in by their desire to know.
along with playing it real, I would throw in that it is also important for your scene partners to accept whatever reality you have created - as actors. It is fine for their characters to freak out or be caught off guard, but as actors they must be willing to accept and support that reality. It is when they don't that the audience feels uncomfortable. Not supporting the reality often looks like someone justifying everything so that it makes sense in the world we actually live in OR when someone signals to the audience in some way that what they are seeing is weird or not good - in Junk, we call this the Andy face . However it often takes the much simpler form of people in the scene looking and/or being lost. CROWE, to me , is tool used to prevent this from happening. IMHO you don't have to get the CROWE out at the top, but be ready to use it when needed. I find it really helpful in time jumps, flashbacks/forwards, etc.
Lastly, i think it is impossible to "do nothing". You are always doing something even if you are just waiting for someting to happen. When this gets weird forthe audience is when they can tell you are uncomfortable or have nothing. Again - in the scene that Shana referred to I was smokinga cigarette. It was the opening scene of the show and the suggestion was laundry. That inspired a character in me that was sitting in the laundry room watching her new, fancy washing machine wash clothes. I also imagined she was kinda trashy, a smoker, and from the deep south. What the audience got was me sitting in chair smoking a cigarette for a couple of minutes until Troy came in. That wasn't nothing, but it was very simple and trusting. I could have easily hit the panic button started talking to the washing machine or called for another player, but that would have been the moment when I actually had nothing and it might have become obvious to the audience.
-Ted
"I don't use the accident. I create the accident." -Jackson's Polyp
All the elements of crow(e) are very useful. Sometimes it's useful to bring them out right away. Sometimes it's useful to know them internally or discover them organically. Sometimes it's useful to purposefully ignore them. If you know ABOUT crow(e). If you have drilled it so that it's second nature and you just kind of feel its purpose in the scene... then you are a master. As with all the improv "rules" or "tools" or "tenets", you just have to fully know the information so that you can know how to use or not use it. Style of no style.
They call me Dollar Bill 'cause I always make sense.