Improvention Review - Workshops
For those of you who don’t know, I’ve been getting more involved in improvisational theatre (making things up on the spot). I’ve been loving it, it’s been like rediscovering a passion I’d neglected for years, when I used to be involved in Canberra Youth Theatre, and drama in Years 7 to 12.
Last week was my first time at Improvention, which is the largest festival of improvisation in Australia, and it all happens in Canberra. It was a fantastic convention, I discovered many ideas and experiences new to me, and I have a much better idea now at what improvisation can be about. There are workshops and shows exploring different impro formats, and ideas. Some of the workshops are directly connected to the shows, and some are not.
I’ve also done a rough copy of the performances, however, as this post is already quite long, I’ll post the first half of the review now, and post the second one at a later time.
List of Workshops ReviewedNigel Sutton - Character Narrative
Rebecca DeUnamuno - A Day in the Life
Tom Salinsky - Gorilla
Patti Stiles - How the West was Improvised
Lliam Armor - Impro for Fun
Rik Brown - Stuck in the Middle
Jason Geary - Monologues that Matter
I debated on the merits of grading each workshop, and show, and have decided to do so, although I’m getting the idea that this is unusual in the impro scene, partly it seems that being judgemental might hamper the freedom from thought and judgement that impro needs to flow well in the moment. For me at the moment, it’s a good way of characterising my experience and working out what was most valuable for me - so I’m going to do it anyway.
WORKSHOPS
Sun 1/7 am: Nigel Sutton - Character Narrative
A+
This first workshop was my favourite of the festival. It was my first experience of delving into character for the purposes of impro. Previous to this, I had thought it was cheating to take a character into a scene with me, this wasn’t really making things up as you went along. (I’ve read Patti Stiles blog recently, and she says something to the effect that there really isn’t such a thing as rules, and from that surmise there isn’t really such a thing as cheating either. There is only what works and doesn’t work. I’m willing to use the more politically correct term of ‘guidelines’ for now.)
In this workshop, I had the chance to develop and name my default character on stage, Clayton, who which is a self-absorbed, arrogant but charming snob. (Each person worked on their own characters.) We explored the best moment in their lives, and their worst moments in their lives, and practiced transitioning between those two states, as a way for us to keep in mind both of those extremes every time we play the character. I think I actually like my character a little bit less now that I got to know him better, but hopefully that also means I’m more prepared to let him lose more often on stage, which will be more interesting for an audience.
I also got to play the character in the hot seat, which is a process where the teacher asks some difficult questions of the character, and makes things up that the player has to accommodate and justify within the mindset of that character. Much like the character might be endowed with things by other players on stage during a scene that would also need to be accommodated for. I loved doing this scene, and got a lot out of the process.
Big Takeaways
- It’s OK to take pre-established characters into impro scenes if it’s appropriate to the story
-A good way to develop a character is to think about their best and worst moments in their lives. Knowing these two things, and being able to transition between them quickly will help add interest to a performance. I will add it to the other techniques I use to build a character for my writing (The Chubbuck Method).
Sun 1/7 pm: Rebecca DeUnamuno - A Day in the life of…
B+
I liked Bec’s class, and I suspect I may have rated it higher if I hadn’t just had some big insights on character in the earlier class that morning. (It was also hampered by the venue, as the Playing Fields studio is a dance studio space with very hard floors, and is quite an unfriendly space for drama work.)
During the warmup, we were asked to do a transaction scene in a shop. I was planning to go for a low status drunk, but the person immediately made that same choice, so needing to make a new character with no notice, I chose a threatening auditor instead. We were then told that character is the one we would develop for the rest of the workshop. As I had just worked on a high status character, I probably would have preferred to work on a low status character so I had more balance.
(I have some theories about energy projection as to why I tend to default to high status characters, and also why, if I haven’t made a choice, high status is usually endowed to me.)
Bec pretty much had us walking our ways into these characters. I got to know my auditor much better. I worked out that he was a crusader for justice, with an inflated sense of fairness that came from an unfair childhood of being emotionally abused by his father. I think this actually led to a greater likability for the character, doing a profession that tends to be disliked by a large portion of the population. In one scene, where we play out waking up for the morning, I found I really knew who this person was, about his need for control and order, and his quest for balance in the world, using the correct paperwork to achieve his aims. As Bec put it, there was an added element of huffiness by the end of the workshop.
During the workshop we were also able to see everyone else’s development and deepening of their chosen characters, which was interesting and quite cool.
Big Takeaways
- Doing character work beforehand, working out the day to day life of a character, can add a lot of depth and interest to him. I got to see how great deep characters can be when I saw Fat City on the Monday night..
Tues 3/7 - Tom Salinsky - Gorilla
A-
Gorilla is a type of format, where you have one director, who is directing the players to enact a certain scene, preferably a scenario that the players wouldn’t have come up with by making things up on the spot on their own. The director can then give notes, tell the players to do a scene over with a change in place, tell people to confess things, or play things in a different way, or give them specific words to say. Again, it’s a format I would have thought was cheating.
I’ve been thinking of the kinds of stories you could do with this format, that would not usually be arrived at independently; things like evil twins, amnesia and time travel. The trick though, is to make the scenes about the character interactions, and not the gimmick of the scenario. And according to Tom, some of the scenes you think will be brilliant turn out not to be brilliant after all, while some of your silly, poorly developed ideas turn out to be the most satisfying.
It was great to hear Tom talk about his experiences in the Gorilla format, and the types of things that could happen in the format. Tom is also a huge Doctor Who fan, which gives him extra points in my book.
We practiced doing directed scenes, and I enjoyed the group work. What I gleaned from this is that as a player I could more concentrate on the characters and interaction, and not worry about the metastory, such as plot advancement and pacing - so long as the director was doing a good job.
Directing was more of a challenge. During my directed scene in front of the class, the players misunderstood my directions, and rather than get them to do it again, I tried to justify the plot after the fact, and it was less effective than it could have been. My instinct as a Game Master of roleplaying games is to give players completely free choice in what they do and say. If they make poor, uninteresting choices in the moment, I try to twist my story to justify the player choices so that the story will still come out in a way that will be satisfying for everyone. This instinct took over in my directed scene, though I won’t make that mistake again. I should have just had the players do things over again the way I’d envisioned it. For a player of an RPG, I believe it to be frustrating to have choices second guessed. On stage however, (as I learned later) do overs can actually look quite interesting.
Big Takeaways
-Give definite directions to get the scene looking the way I want it to.
-Don’t expect the players to read my mind of what I want.
-As a player, under a good director, it allows me to concentrate on the characters and environment, and not on the needs of the scene.
-To be honest though, after seeing most of the class try to direct a scene, failing to achieve good scenes, and getting forfeits, (a negative vote from the audience) I left the workshop totally confused. I didn’t see how directed scenes could possibly be interesting for an audience to watch. Taking off the pressure on the players led to worse and more confused scenes, not better ones. The format felt artificial, imposed, and blocking true creativity. Sure, most of us were new and still learning, but there seemed to be major flaws in the concept as well. The quality of Tom’s teaching had been excellent, and he obviously had a huge amount of experience. However, I left wondering just how deluded he must be to think all this was a good idea.
That extreme puzzlement stayed with me for hours until I saw Archetype Theatre that evening… when I got to see just how well directed scenes can work.
Thurs 5/7 - Patti Stiles - How the West was Improvised
A
I think I have a new crush - the beautiful and talented Patti Stiles, whose zest for life and experimentation and exploration for Impro is contagious. I’m guessing she’s highly kinaesthetic as she loves to touch people, and she’s very much into the feel and relationship between people and objects on stage.
I wasn’t game to tell her the real reason why I was in her class, as I only have a passing interest in the Western genre, and haven’t seen most of the movies. (Though I did borrow a Western/Amber crossover setting to GM three sessions for my regular Amber Diceless RPG group that went fantastically well…)
The real reason I was in the class was that I wanted to meet her. I wanted to know why ACT Impro had thought it fitting to name a room after her. And I had heard a podcast she’d done a few months back on how to inspire your character, and she talked about the types of risks improvisers tend not to take. I wanted to know this woman better, and learn everything I could from her.
Patti talked about the types of things that improvisers avoid on stage.
-Players don’t usually kill other characters
-Players don’t usually die on stage and stay dead
-Players don’t usually allow for silence
-Players don’t usually allow for the stakes to be high, and for the stakes to increase.
When Patti thinks of all of these things, it is the Western that comes to her mind, which encapsulates all of these things. So she designed this format, to encourage players to take these kinds of risks.
I love the way she thinks. I have a personal ambition to make a significant contribution to the field of impro. I’m not going be able to do that by playing it safe, or by doing the same things that everyone else is doing. Having a good grounding in the basics is important, of course. But only by risking the frontier and exploring the new and unknown will the important discoveries be made.
We played out several different Western scenes in different workshops. I was wishing I could do a credible American accent, as I would have liked to have been involved in the coming performance.
Big Takeaways
- Patti Stiles is awesome, and I’m going to everything of hers that I can do. I’m impatiently waiting for her book.
-Do what scares and excites you, and whatever improvisers are shying away from, do that. The unknown is where the unmined riches lie.
Fri 6/7 - Lliam Armor - Impro for Fun
A-
After all these challenging workshops, it was good to have one that I was in my comfort zone, that was full of laughter and enjoyment and play. I’ll have to admit that I feel myself drawn more to the potential of the serious side of impro, but the comedy aspect is always going to have a place in my heart too.
We played a number of different games, and my favourite was the one where someone followes you in a scene, and when he pokes you in the back you have Tourette’s syndrome and spit the first thing that’s on your mind out. And then you might have to recover or justify afterwards.
Big Takeaways
-Be sure to name other characters, name them at least three times near the beginning of a scene.
-In warmups, play the name game. Go through the alphabet A-Z, and try to think of a boy name that starts with each letter of the alphabet. Then do the same with girl names.
-Endowing characteristics helps another player get a good idea of their character.
-If in doubt, confess. This will give new impetus to the scene. This helped me in retrospect realise why The Long Weekend had changed from being boring to being interesting to watch.
Sat 7/7: Rik Brown - Stuck in the Middle
B
The idea of this format is that there is one person in the centre of the stage, and players on the outside come in and engage the central player in the new scene. When that scene is finished, a new player or players come in and engage the central player in a new scene.
Rik came up with the ball analogy a few days before the workshop. You could imagine that all the players are trying to keep a beachball in the air, as much as possible. If a scene struggles, the ball starts to drop, and needs to be hit back up again. The goal is to keep it up in the air as much as possible, and as high as possible. That is to keep the energy high. You do this by making clear and interesting offers, and engaging well with the central player. The ball analogy could also be applied to other impro formats.
At first the ball seemed like a useful analogy to me, however, on consideration a week later, I’ve decided it’s not going to lead me into the best mindset. It encourages thinking about the negative - the ball eventually dropping, rather than the more positive, keeping the ball up in the air. The assumption is that the default of any scene is for it to lose energy, and for the ball to drop. I think this is a disempowering presumption to make… It would be healthier to expect that scenes will gather momentum so long as everything stays clear of its path, something more like a snowball getting larger and eventually turning into an avalanche, gaining more snow as each offer comes, and is built upon, as the excitement of a scene builds. (Or maybe something similar to that idea, depending on how good one feels about natural disasters.)
In the practices of this format, I loved being in the centre and constantly adapting to new offers. I hated being in support though, mostly because it was up to each of us to know when the scene currently on needed to end, and to come in with something new. I felt I was almost paralysed with a concern that I didn’t have permission - maybe the players were happy with how the scene was going, and didn’t need me to come on. Did I have the right to change their experience in that scene? Would they want me? A lot of these fears are my own personal stuff about life getting in the way of impro… Fortunately I don’t have these problems if I know I have permission, that is, a space on the stage has specifically been given to me. Knowing whether or not I have a permission is a big concern in my life too, one of the reasons why I tend to be quiet during social chit-chat.
Rik had good notes at the end of each scene. I was not playing at my best, because too much of my attention was taken up worrying about whether I had permission or not. This isn’t a format I’m going to enjoy being a support in until I resolve some that issue.
I should mention that American Eric and I seemed to have ended up in almost every class together. He is a fantastically nice guy. It was great to see his practice of being in the middle. In each scene he just loved the offers made to him, and leapt into each scene with great enthusiasm. It was inspiring to watch. I felt I got to know him better by seeing the offers he loved, and the offers that didn’t inspire him as much.
Big Takeaway:
Offers work best when clearly defined and expressed, and quickly establish relationship and objectives.
Sat 7/7: Jason Geary - Monologues that matter-- Keith Johnstone
A-
This workshop was a lot of fun. And covered yet another impro subject that I thought were breaking the rul… um… breaking the guidelines. The idea is that at any point in a scene, where it is useful, a character could break out into a short monologue. These tend to be quite interesting, which was proven by Fat City.
There are three ways of doing monologues that we were taught…
-Make a bold statement and back it up with a rant or a speech.
-Blurt out a ridiculous comparison, such as our love is like a rusty nail, and then try to justify it with a speech.
-Confess to something, probably some historical piece about the character.
So we practised ranting to the wall on our own, and we practised ranting to the class, and we practised inserting rants into scenes. It felt really great and empowering. Maybe as useful as therapy. I want to do more rants now.
Big Takeaways
-Ranting is fun and I want to do more of them.
-Ranting is a good way of doing a confession
-Giving a speech can reveal a lot about a character
-There is an ebb and flow to an impro scene, where a longer monologue can work well.