In September I had the honor of spending a few days with some incredibly talented travelling improvisers who came through Victoria. Last month I had the opportunity of hanging with some improvisers in Montreal. Since then I’ve come to two conclusions:
Time is a currency, but it’s worth is determined by how you spend it.
Summer is a good time to go on the road, and today that’s where I’m going: The Road. A place of opportunity. A place with no end. A place where you never look back…unless you’re checking your mirror. The road is where friends are made and dragons defeated. All roads lead to The Road.
Right now, I’m not on a road… I’m on a boat – heading to Vancouver. Tomorrow morning I will be setting out for adventure, alongside my partner and incredible spoken word artist Missie Peters. We will be driving all around the Western part of Canada, making stops in Calgary, Regina, Saskatoon, Edmonton and, you guessed it, the lovely and prosperous land of Winnipeg. On some of these stops I’ll be teaching workshops or performing, on others I’ll just be touristing while Missie reads some poems. In all of these places, I’ll be keeping my eye out for new and exciting things. SO, if you live in any of those cities, and have a workshop or show opportunity for me, know of a new and exciting thing I could do, or if you just want to grab a coffee, Get in touch.
I like seeing people and doing things. Afterall, the road is long.
It’s official, improv is taking over TEDx. Last year I did a TEDx talk about The Way of Improvisation. This year, my friend Jayden Pfeifer from Regina has done the same.
It’s nice to see that improvisation is being accepted in intellectual communities. It makes me feel good.
Many improvisers make the case that improvisation isn’t just comedy, and I agree; Improvisation is a form of theatre1. And yet, we rarely treat it as such. We treat improvisation as if it is comedy, and then expect our audience to understand that it can be more.
The truth of the matter is that most improv shows are set up in the same vein as comedy shows: on a weekly or monthly basis with little to no rehearsal time. As opposed to theatre shows which run in a season with 4 or 5 shows throughout the year, and have months of rehearsals leading up to them.
When I was a member of Vancouver’s !nstant Theatre co. in the early 2000′s we had a season. And it was great. The shows were chosen in advance, by the director Alistair Cook, and the focus of each was completely different. We did a show called Premiere which was a standard improvised play, followed by a show about ghost stories called Campfire. We did a Blank Slate, a Transformation based show and if i remember correctly, Antiques Improv Roadshow was a part of that same season. Each show explored a different idea of improvisation and so our season felt eclectic and well thought out.
I felt l like I was part of a theatre company, not a comedy troupe. Most improv today feels like the latter.
What I’m trying to do with The Paper Street Theatre co. is the former. Our season so far has comprised An Improvised Tennessee Williams, An Improvised Samuel Beckett, and this week we open An Improvised Film Noir. This is our first season, so the shows weren’t announced in advance, but this fall I plan to announce our entire 4 show season. Maybe I’ll even offer a season’s pass.
Why? Because improvisation is theatre. So improv companies should emulate theatre, not comedy. I’m not saying all of the shows need to be theatrical styles (or that they can’t be funny), but maybe the season should be in the style of theatre instead of the style of stand-up or sketch comedy. It would at least change the way the audience looks at your work. So far I think the audience who comes to see Paper Street shows do think of us as theatre. I believe this because the last few radio interviews I’ve done, the host makes a point of telling people that our show isn’t like most improv, but instead it’s like theatre (and I don’t have to prompt him, he just says it now). The Sunday Night Improv show I run on a monthly basis on the other hand, that feels like a comedy show (and for the most part, it is).
The bottom line is this. If you want people to look at improv as if it is theatre, you should start making your improv look like theatre. Not only on the stage, but also in how your company works.
1 At least improvised theatre is a form of theatre, Jazz would be a form of music. But you know I mean.↩
It turns out, a lovely improviser from Melbourne, Australia named Lynne Cazaly made some visual notes on my TEDx talk. I think it’s a beautiful interpretation of my talk.
Here’s the image:
If you like her work you can let her know on Twitter @lynnecazaly.
As most of you probably know by now, I gave a TEDx Talk a couple of months ago and the video is now available to watch on YouTube. The talk is called The Way of Improvisation. It’s about using the skills found in improvisation in your everyday life. I’m proud of this talk, and if you haven’t seen it, you should watch it, and if you have watched it, please share it with your friends.
In response to the unusually high amount of feedback I’ve been getting about my talk, all I really have to say is thank you all very much. I appreciate every comment, “like”, and share you’ve given me on the interwebs. My talk was aimed at reaching, and teaching, non-improvisers about how useful the skills of improvisation can be, and I feel I’ve done that thanks to you and your support.
Keep sharing the good word of improvisation.
Thank you.
The Paper Street Theatre co. is preparing for our second installment of fully improvised theatre with An Improvised Samuel Beckett. If you’re not familiar with Beckett, he was a poet, novelist, and theatre director, although most well known as a playwright. He’s been called the last modernist, and the first post-modernist. For more information read Waiting for Godot.
In short, Paper Street is improvising in the style of Theatre of the Absurd and so far it has been interesting to say the least and contradicting to say the most.
Improvisation is about telling stories and connecting ideas, whereas Theatre of the Absurd is more about dissonance, and nothingness – a world with no god in which language, and eventually everything else, breaks down into meaninglessness. Beckett was famous for making the audience watch a play where nothing happens in act I, and then making them watch it again in act II. It’s been a very strange experience listening to your scene partner only to bring an idea in from left field, or setting up a scene only to have it simply go in circles. We’ve had to take most of our improviser impulses and override them. So, how do we do it? If not from our partner, where are our impulses coming from? Well, we look to the man himself, Mr. Samuel Beckett.
In preparation, not only did we read plays by Beckett, but we read essays and articles on the author himself. To understand an author, you need to understand his life and his motivation. Beckett is what should influence our choices on stage. So I ask myself “What would Beckett write?” and go from there. So far, it’s been working great. Whenever I find myself lost — which isn’t a terrible thing when improvising Beckett — and act upon an impulse that I think Beckett would appreciate, my fellow improvisers love it, and comment on how “Beckett” that moment felt.
The show opens on Thursday this week and I can’t really get into how excited/nervous/curious I am to see how it turns out. When a Beckett show would open, half the reviews would say it was terrible, and half would say it was incredible. I expect similar results. Half our audience will probably not enjoy the show, but they’d have to admit that it felt like a play by Samuel Beckett. If you’re around Victoria, you should come. If you’re not, I’ll let you know how it how goes.
I post a lot from the perspective of a performer, but I’d like to take a moment to post as an audience member.
This is an open letter to producers and performers (especially comedians):
Dear person,
Please consider me, your audience, when you are putting on your show. Like most audience members, I come to your show and show you respect. I listen to your jokes, I applaud, I cheer. I am a good audience member.
What you seem to forget is that when I come to see you perform I am not only giving you money, I’m also giving you some of my time. And my time is valuable to me. In fact, my hourly rate is worth more than the $10 – $20 I paid to see your show. With that in mind, please don’t disrespect my time. An hour and a half is a long enough show. If you reach two hours, it better be a damn good show. Any longer and you are making me miss other parts of my life, that have more value to me then your self-indulgent jokes (that in many cases just insult and abuse the audience).
Your show isn’t just about you, in fact, it should be about me since I’m the one paying for it. If your show is you tooting your own horn for three hours, at about the hour and half mark I’ll be wishing I could go home. That means that the last half of your show is me not wanting to be there. That’s what I’ll leave your show thinking. In fact, I am usually willing to pay you more money for less of a show. That’s a truth.
There’s an old saying, “A good time doesn’t mean a long time” and it still holds water in today’s world. You may think I would want nothing more then to watch you perform all night long, but the truth is, that’s what you and your ego want, not me your audience. Take a look around at the people you are performing for and ask yourself, what’s the best thing for them, and how can I bring that about. Otherwise you’re not really a performer, you’re just an attention-seeker who has no respect for other people’s time.
Sincerely,
Dave Morris, Audience Member
I wrote a guest piece about diversification for the Montreal Improv Blog. You should check it out, but here’s a nice little excerpt to wet your tongue:
Being a career improviser, means being more than just an improviser. The moment I decided to improvise for a living, i became a business. Which means I have to do all of the things a business does.
Head on over and give it a read.
So, I’m back from the Winnipeg IF… Improv Festival and I thought I’d write a review of the festival, much like I did for the Seattle festival I went to earlier this year. Here goes.
The Winnipeg IF… can be described in three words: Food. Friends. And improv. It’s almost as if Steve Sim, the festival director, wanted you to feel more like you were on a vacation then at work, and he succeeded. We slept in every day and stayed out every night. From F’wing (fake wing) night with an open mic, to DJ’s and dancing at a house party, we took part in every social outing a festival should have. Steve Sim and Lee White are wonderful hosts – they know how to make you feel welcome.
Food
There was a lot of great eating. There was taco night at Steve’s, breakfast at Stella’s, thai food, The Falafel Place, home made potato pancakes, and so much more wonderful eating. We broke bread at least twice a day as an ensemble and it had the wonderful effect of bringing us all together. There was quite a lot of drinking involved too, and that didn’t hurt either.
Friends
I don’t think I need to get into detail about this. There were so many wonderful people to see and meet. New friends were made, old friendships were strengthened. Thanks to all the food and drink, we had much time to catch up and so we did.
Improv
Of course there was improv. In fact, every night I had some improv related activity to attend. Monday night I was a guest on the Crumbs Radio show where I had a lot of fun talking with my two favourite improvisers in Canada. Tuesday was the festival opening show at the King’s Head, which gave all of us a chance to play together. Wednesday was f’wing and true story night. So many stories, so many f’wings. Thursday night was the show I was most excited to see: The DnD improv show. Swords, fake blood and improv, can you say awesome? Awesome. Friday was the ensemble showcase, where i got to play with members of Outside Joke, followed by a late night jam in which Lee White and I brought sexy to a whole new level. Then on Saturday the festival ended with Samurai Davis Jr. & Dim Sum’s Super Mega Happy Fun Time Improv Show from Atlanta, Georgia. Think Japanese game show crossed with improv. I know. Amazing.
Overall, the amount of improv was perfect. Every night there was still time to hang out and get to know all of the improvisers which is, of course, what festivals are all about: bringing people together. I would highly recommend the Winnipeg IF… to any improviser who wants to have fun with other improvisers.
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