“Self Portrait Age 3, Self Portrait Age 33” Art Print
Buy it on society6!
“Self Portrait Age 3, Self Portrait Age 33” Art Print
Buy it on society6!
Why you do what you do is what you’ll do next.
Life inside the crazy world of improv means that this fall, according to the way my brain works, Lauren Ash is going to be on an ABC sitcom with some Australian girl.
With the number of improvisers on Vine, I would not be surprised.
Do you have people who speak in paragraphs when they should speak in sentences, or have trouble with coming up with emotional deals in scenes? Here’s a super cheap exercise that is nonetheless effective and hilarous:
Get some folks up to do a scene. There is only one rule. Whatever they say, they have to say the whole thing again. Exactly the same wording both times.
This does a few nice things.
First, the improvisers quickly figure out that if they platform you will make them pay. You go ahead and say eight sentences. You’re going to just be saying them again. All eight. No, all eight. No, you didn’t say it like that, say it again. Don’t be a douchebag, but be a little bit strict. Part of the scenic effect is the exact repetition.
Second, they even more quickly figure out that they don’t want to just say the line the same way both times. They get to figure out what their deal is by hearing themselves stress the words that matter.
And third, eventually the two improvisers will start interleaving their repetitions. The best scene from the first time I did this descended into “No, you are” and “No, you are”, and it was a high-energy, well-earned impasse that had everyone cracking up.
The finest part is that the scenes end up much more naturalistic than you’d expect. Even the weakest scene turns into Mamet pastiche and the best would be good enough that you’d be happy for them to show up in performance. Yay!
We don’t care about what you don’t care about.
We ran Five Whys again at practice today and it was a total winner!
One scene came out of the deep truths of “I’m scared because I have no money” versus “I want everyone to see that I’m successful” and it ended up having two nice, simple, fun games that would lend themselves really well to reincorporation.
Another one, the improviser just felt trapped in “I really, really like corn dogs”, so I said “You know what? That is your deep truth. Say a line.” And that worked out amazingly too.
I think this one’s a keeper. If you try it out yourself, send me a note to tell me how it goes!
It’s New Exercise Day! I didn’t think it was, but it is!
There’s an exercise that I like to run when I’m coaching that is called I Care. It’s really simple: while two people are up, before they say their actual line in the scene they say as an aside “I care about that because…” in response to their partner. The I-care isn’t actually part of a scene. It’s just making some subtext visible and forcing you to react to the last thing said.
A: I ate the last slice of cake.
B: I care about that because I have had a really rough day and wanted some cake. But I put my name on that cake! I cannot believe you.
A: I care about that because I want B to like me. I’m sorry. Can I bake you a new cake?
A good variant on this is that the I-care should be said under your breath - deliberately whispered only to yourself so that you still vocalize it, but nobody else hears it. That helps with the tendency to platform during the aside.
Today I decided to try another twist. There is a concept in Japanese manufacturing called Five Whys. When you have a problem, you shouldn’t just fix the problem. You should ask “Why did this problem happen?”, until you have drilled down five levels. This door won’t close properly. Why? Because the bolts didn’t hold. Why? Because there wasn’t enough time to put them on tightly. Why? Because the assembly line moved too quickly. Why? Because the production schedule is too tight. Why? Because there are a lot of orders and we’re playing catch-up.
The real problem wasn’t that this door was poorly bolted, it’s that the workers don’t have enough time to do their job properly. The real solution is to hire more staff or slow the line down.
So today, I applied the same principle to I Care, and it produced some amazing results.
A: I ate the last slice of cake.
B: I care about that because I have had a really rough day and wanted some cake.
Coach: Why does that matter?
B: I like to eat sweet things when I’m under stress.
Coach: Why does that matter?
B: If I eat my pain I don’t have to confront it.
Coach: There we go. Say a line.
B: It hurts that you didn’t even think of me. I was saving that cake! I put my name on it!
A: I care about that because I want B to like me.
Coach: Why does that matter?
A: B is a new acquaintance and it feels bad seeing I hurt her.
Coach: Why does that matter?
A: I think she’s a very vulnerable person.
Coach: Why does that matter?
A: It makes my protective instincts kick in.
Coach: Say a line.
A: It sounds like you had a bad day. Tell me about it while I get the flour.
Pretty much the same dialogue, right? But now we have some higher stakes than just plain old you-stole-my-cake/I-replace-your-cake, and we have the groundwork for some games to play. B can start shoving cookies in her mouth every time the conversation gets a little too personal. A can get furious whenever B says something bad about a coworker.
Of course you wouldn’t actually do this whole exercise on stage, but I’m hoping that if we exercise this muscle of finding root causes for our actions, we can make more sincere choices from a wider palette. And today, at least, that’s what happened. The deeper motivations moved us away from the clever space to the heartfelt space. The laughs were sparser, but every single one of them was earned and cathartic. Less Kristen Wiig and more Jet Eveleth.
I’m going to be doing more of this.
You’re never just doing stuff. Figure out why you’re doing it the way you’re doing it.
No house painter has ever had an amazing new house painting technique.