Being in the moment: that’s improv

By Connie Shakalis, Nick had never heard of improv theater. He picked up the concept immediately.

The moment. That’s how improv happens. By getting us to act (don’t worry too much about thinking) right now.

And I’ll bet there’s not a single live production that hasn’t used improv to make it to the curtain call. Improvisational—“improv”— theater happens all the time in regular, scripted-and-rehearsed theater. Just last month I was in a play. Whenever something went wrong—a lost prop, i.e., a 9’ x 12’ carpet; a forgotten line; a missed entrance—we actors covered it by adjusting. In other words, we made stuff up on the spot.

Improv is for much more than theater

Theater is only one of the places improvising helps. I used it yesterday when, in a group, I forgot the first name of my friend’s mother. “Oh, look, I’ve dropped my pen. Please introduce yourselves,” I said, bending down to the pavement. And they did.

This spring, a neighbor’s pear tree split into five pieces, clogging his driveway. We improvised, the neighborhood bringing whatever cutting or sawing tools we had--at the moment.

Improv gets us to act (don’t worry about thinking), at least for now.

No rules, except this one

Please don’t kill the scene. That’s improv theater’s only rule. If Sara tells you her employer is an anteater who prefers oranges to insects, you go along.

“Oh, Sara,” you might respond, “that’s a coincidence, because, look, here’s a basket of navel oranges my colleague stole last night.”

But if instead you tell Sara that anteaters do not eat citrus fruits, you’ve killed the scene. Unless--you clarify with something like “No. That’s insane. So I’ll just return these ants I brought. Where can I get an orange around here? In fact, might he try a lime?”

You’ve said “no” in a nonfatal way; you haven’t stopped the motion. You’ve added to the story. In improv, the story develops as it’s told. You know those time-lapse photographs where we watch a flower unfold, a butterfly come out? That’s improv for you,a nascent  scene.

But I’m not funny. So do as the Europeans do

For the past 30 years, Europeans have been organizing improv that focuses on masks, dancing, music and other sounds, and unusual lighting. Comedy isn’t the goal here. Instead, legit European theater.

Lots of people aren’t funny. So what? Improv isn’t about comedy. It can be, but not necessarily. Some of the most interesting scenes I’ve watched have become memory-searching dialogs about loss or misunderstandings.

Last summer in a workshop, we had a scene where I was supposed to be the “other”sister dealing with an inheritance. My “sister” broke down and cried when I told her I wanted her to have our parents’ money, because she had been so helpful to me previously. Somewhere, that emerging scene, was already imbedded in that actor’s own past.

Showing emotions: that’s the easy part

Showing fear, anxiety, joy, disgust is the easy part of improv. We’ve all had these emotions millions of times, some only this morning. When I rehearsed Nellie in “South Pacific” in Florida, the director, who was also, yikes, the leading man, screamed: “Produce tears!” Oh no. I was just trying to remember lines, lyrics and where I was supposed to be on the stage. And now he wants, commands, me to cry? I instantly designed the trick I use to this day when I want to feel sad onstage. I thought of someone (in this case my darling little red-headed niece and nephew) lying in caskets! Thank you, Jenn and Andy. And, no, I have not told their mother.

Improv has been around for centuries

The Atellan Farce (391 BCE) may be one of the oldest improvs. These farces—oh, I love farce—attracted audiences in Ancient Rome, a lot like Greek satires.

By Maria Dolores Vasquez, Unsplash. Modern representation of Ancient Roman soldiers

During the 1500s through the 1700s, commedia dell’arte participants improvised in Italy’s streets. Theatrical theorists and directors in the 1890s—think of Konstantin Stanislavski or Jacques Copeau—relied on improv to train actors and move along rehearsals. Stanislavski liked to “live” the character not just imitate it. Copeau stressed the oneness of word and performance. And he meant the entire performance, from props master to playwright

The audience can—but doesn’t have to—get involved

Not everyone wants to interact. You don’t have to. But if getting up there is your thing, sometimes actors ask the audience to provide scene ideas, or to join the scene.

Improv teaches teamwork

If a scene is to make sense, the actors must work together, not compete. That’s hard for performer personalities. Auditions and curtain calls, after all, are all about competing.

In every word or motion, the improv actor extends a sort of plea to another actor. You are asking your partner to hear you, play along and keep the action going—in any direction.

Appreciate reality, but stay in character

Not a rule per se, but try not to break character. If you are a Swedish prince who fears spaghetti, keep that image alive. It’s all part of the great “Yes, and . . .,” the foundation of all improv. As the scene takes hold, the “yes, and” can morph into “if this is the case, then what else might be?” So maybe in this case you’d say: “If you fear eating spaghetti, might you prefer to ride my motorcycle to the other end of the market instead?”

By Daniel Watson, Unsplash. Heaps of spaghetti at a market

Try improv in life

Try using improv today. Improv has no script and only that one “no ‘no’s’ ” rule. With most of the control out of your hands, try saying yes to someone. Better, find the people who will say yes back: Stephen Colbert advised that in a graduation speech.

In Improv Wisdom: Don't Prepare, Just Show Up (2005), American author, educator and actress,Patricia Ryan Madson (retired, Stanford University), advises saying yes to our own voice. “Often, the systems we put in place to keep us secure are keeping us from our more creative selves."