Romanticized Dogma vs. Practical Application

[DollarBill]

I've been thinking about this a lot lately:
I hear a lot of lofty philosophical improv tenets being bandied about with great fervor. But then I watch these people play and they're starting scenes with questions, and they're sacrificing relationship for gags, and they're selling out their scene partner... the thing is it's often happening during what I would call A GREAT SHOW!

I just wonder how often people think of the actual on-stage ramifications of their utopian improv ideals. Or am I missing the point... and these philosophies are just supposed to be what we strive for so that at the end of our journey, when we hit the stage, we end up closer to Nirvana than Branson? Or are we just supposed to be experienced enough to realize when we've gone beyone the ideological map? Isn't that the very nature of improv?

I think the answer to all these questions is somewhere in the word, "ensemble." But I could be wrong.

[arthursimone]

the primary reason I shy away from narrative is that I don't like The Conclusion... an ideal improvised theater piece is-and-was-and-always-will-be. I strive to establish characters that the audience can take away and imagine existing long after the show is over.

It's becoming a peeve for me watching scenes and relationships sacrificed at the end for some big-laugh button. Many scenes don't get second beats or callbacks, but that should be because of the set's time limitation, not because the scene is 'finished'.

Editing a scene on the big laugh is held up as the ideal, particularly with newbies who fear that silence = failure, but it doesn't have to be that way.

[kbadr]

I struggle with this constantly. I have very lofty goals, but I'm not able to always do it on stage. Sometimes I just can't. I think I've come to realize that "improv" means so many things, that I need to actually think of shows differently if I'm going to try to judge or compare them to what my perceived ideals were.

Sometimes shows are more theatrical, grounded, dramatic, moving. Those are great. I'd love to do more of them.

Sometimes shows are just fast and skew a little sillier, but there's still that wonderful group mind at play. Everyone's saying yes. Everyone's jumping on every offer and everyone has each others' backs. It's a beautiful thing to watch.

For me, personally, I realize that I tend to write-off that second kind of show too easily, simply because it was "just comedy" and maybe a little silly. But it can still be a very wonderful thing to watch. I also came to the conclusion recently that I don't think I could sustain it if every show had to be a deep, moving piece of theatre. With the number of shows I do, it would be emotionally and mentally draining.

I didn't answer your question. But it is something I think about a lot. I do believe that there is this sort of Improv Nirvana a lot of people internalize (and it's different for everyone), and it's not a bad thing to strive for it. We just shouldn't beat ourselves up too badly if we don't hit it every time.

[Roy Janik]

the primary reason I shy away from narrative is that I don't like The Conclusion... an ideal improvised theater piece is-and-was-and-always-will-be. I strive to establish characters that the audience can take away and imagine existing long after the show is over.

That's what sequels are for.

Seriously, I don't see how having a conclusion hurts the audience's ability to imagine what happens next. There's plenty of fanfiction out there to prove that people have no trouble imagining the characters in a narrative existing outside the confines of the initial story.

Editing a scene on the big laugh is held up as the ideal, particularly with newbies who fear that silence = failure, but it doesn't have to be that way.

Yes. And, just to continue my thread about narrative, doing a narrative lends itself to scenes that don't end in huge buttons, in my experience. The scene ends because something has happened, a shift in the balance or dynamic has occurred, and the play is moving on to the next scene. There's less pressure to end on a huge laugh, because nothing has truly ended.

[ratliff]

Yes. And, just to continue my thread about narrative, doing a narrative lends itself to scenes that don't end in huge buttons, in my experience. The scene ends because something has happened, a shift in the balance or dynamic has occurred, and the play is moving on to the next scene. There's less pressure to end on a huge laugh, because nothing has truly ended.

When Arthur teaches the Harold, he points out that by not editing scenes on big laughs you're actually strengthening the audience's perception of the show as an integrated piece of work instead of a series of unconnected scenes. Instead of hitting the reset button, you're drawing them into the next scene and inviting them to make connections.

[Roy Janik]

When Arthur teaches the Harold, he points out that by not editing scenes on big laughs you're actually strengthening the audience's perception of the show as an integrated piece of work instead of a series of unconnected scenes. Instead of hitting the reset button, you're drawing them into the next scene and inviting them to make connections.

Nice! I hadn't thought of the fact that a big laugh to end a scene creates a mental break and barrier between the next scene, but that rings totally true.

[Roy Janik]

I've been thinking about this a lot lately:
I hear a lot of lofty philosophical improv tenets being bandied about with great fervor. But then I watch these people play and they're starting scenes with questions, and they're sacrificing relationship for gags, and they're selling out their scene partner... the thing is it's often happening during what I would call A GREAT SHOW!

I think about this all the time, too. I take classes, take workshops, and work hard on specific skills in rehearsals, and over time my skills have generally trended upward, I hope. But at the same time I've also been doing a whole lot of performing. Sometimes I worry that there's a whole lot less correlation between the study of improv and the actual 'success' of improv than we think there is.

I've definitely taken workshops from very talented improvisers, and then seen them do highly enjoyable shows that seemingly reflected NONE of what they taught us in the class. That's not true of all of them, though. The skills Stephen Kearin taught were very much directly related to his own work, for example.

What I've been saying to help square it in my own mind is that you work on these skills and practices in rehearsal, but during a show you can't think too hard about it. You just hope that intellectualizing it and thinking about it when off-stage will help build those grooves in your mind so that it effectively becomes muscle memory.

You're totally right about ensemble. If you're in that zen state, not thinking, and totally connected with your scene partners, it doesn't matter what you do. Ask questions, dance, have an argument, block, whatever.

I'm not sure I made a point at all. I think I just rambled.

[arthursimone]

When Arthur teaches the Harold, he points out that by not editing scenes on big laughs you're actually strengthening the audience's perception of the show as an integrated piece of work instead of a series of unconnected scenes. Instead of hitting the reset button, you're drawing them into the next scene and inviting them to make connections.

Nice! I hadn't thought of the fact that a big laugh to end a scene creates a mental break and barrier between the next scene, but that rings totally true.

I think that more experienced improvisers can end on a button while still nurturing a thread or possibility of a thread, but lots of scenes from beginners or intermediate peeps feel less like a button and more like a grenade...

[ratliff]

To address the original question:

My whole life I've been a left-brained, hypercritical, overanalytical person who tended to focus on the problems, obstacles, and other negative elements of any situation and who was obssessed with doing things "correctly" and according to a preexisting set of parameters.

My current improv ideal is to play completely in the moment without worrying about form or "correctness," to say yes to (almost) everything, to focus on agreement and connection, and to embrace (not just accept) whatever happens as exactly what was supposed to happen.

So I infer the following:

On some level, I was drawn to improv because I desperately needed it

and

I will probably never, ever achieve my improv ideal

and

I will die happy trying

[DollarBill]

I gotta say that I'm really happy I started this thread. You guys said a lot of things that I totally agree with and that is comforting. You also reminded me of some things that I needed to be reminded of. I feel good now.

Specifically... Kareem, Yes, exactly. Sometimes TJ and Dave will blow my mind with honest, grounded, realistic theater. Sometimes 3033 will blow my mind with ridculously fun and connected play time. I see merrit it many kinds of prov. I suppose there is no best kind, only personal favorites.

Roy, Yes, "muscle memory". You reminded me of the thing I used to tell myself when I start thinking to much. "You've practiced. A LOT! Trust that you know what you're doing and think about it later."

Aurthur and Ratliff when I posted this I couldn't wait to read what you'd write. I knew I could count on the two of you for some stuff I wouldn't have thought of.

HOORAY! Y'all made my day.

[arthursimone]

I honestly think this art form is so rooted in the moment that it's difficult to formulate what the utopian ideal is... I can only ever speak in terms of "this has been irritating me lately" or "what I'm currently working on is..."

I reserve the right to completely contradict myself at any given moment.

[Belinda]

Nice! I hadn't thought of the fact that a big laugh to end a scene creates a mental break and barrier between the next scene, but that rings totally true.

Huh. That is a fantastic point. Also, I can apply that to my stand-up comedy as well, to make my act seem more narrative and smoother.

Thanks Ratliff and Roy!!

/derail

[beardedlamb]

the rules are there as guidelines. they don't ensure success, they only increase your chances. mostly, the rules you mentioned are there to keep a scene from getting out of control or losing focus. the more experienced improvisers can recognize a broken rule, whether it was a mistake or intentional and get back on track without sacrificing the scene.

the difference may also laie in subtle details. how was the question that started the scene worded? was it loaded with character endowments and inflection to indicate important things about the scene? you can bet that tj or dave would pick up on those things and the question turns out to be more powerful than a statement ever could have been.

there is no wrong or right, just better choices.

[DollarBill]

how was the question that started the scene worded? was it loaded with character endowments and inflection to indicate important things about the scene? you can bet that tj or dave would pick up on those things and the question turns out to be more powerful than a statement ever could have been.

there is no wrong or right, just better choices.

I didn't mean to harp on specific rules. I suppose it's more of a question of personal taste. Some teachers here seem to preach about realness and high art and not condescending, but then perform just as sillily as the next bloke. I'm not saying that silly performing is bad. Just wondering if placing improv on a pedestal has its merrits. I'm sure it does as everything has its merrits and drawbacks. Such is life.

[spantell]

Thanks for this post. I think it's important and can be easily overlooked. I perform very little but think about this a lot, what I am aiming for (which I'm told is the wrong way to do improv.)

I especially like posts like this and recent ones from Cody, Vines and Ratliff that address this.