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In improv, we are always striving to be authentic on stage, but teaching authenticity can be a tricky thing.
One of the people who taught it the best was Del Close, an improv teacher I studied with who influenced a generation of comedians from Bill Murray to Chris Farley to Tina Fey to Amy Poehler to Jimmy Carrane. (Like how I slipped my name in there?)
He was not the nurturing type, nor was he the best hands-on teacher. He could be impatient and intimidating and get frustrated with his students.
But what Del was great at was inspiring you to take risks and be yourself. He taught me to experiment. He loved experimenting as much as he loved failing.
He taught me to respect this art form, and by doing it, I was respecting myself.
He taught me to look for the truth in comedy, and he taught me that if you are patient in your scenes, you will give your characters time to feel.
When I studied with him back in ’80s, his time directing at Second City and The Committee was behind him, and he was more interested in exploring what improv itself could be.
He brought things from his life and what was going on in the world into his class to examine them.
Del would read a book or watch some documentary on Joseph Campbell and then want to use what he had learned as a jumping-off point for that class. He wasn’t afraid to share his outside interests with the class. That’s what inspired him. And as a teacher, you have to be inspired yourself to inspire others.
Del was not afraid that what he brought in wouldn’t apply to improv. He trusted us as a class to see if we could make it fit. Sometimes we found it and sometimes we didn't even come close. The only thing that mattered to Del is we tried.
Del never, ever worried about what his students thought about him. He taught us to be authentic by being authentic himself.
It took me a long time to understand this. When I first started teaching, I thought that to be a good improv teacher, you had to teach a certain set of exercises just right, and you had to get people to like you. I was too focused on doing it perfectly and not screwing up. I was hiding. Holding myself back from the class.
Things finally started to change for me when I realized I needed to start bringing my own interests into my class.
I have been in group therapy for 10 years and in 12-step programs for even longer, so part of my interests lie in getting in touch with your emotions and applying principals such as letting go and trusting the group process.
When I started to use some of these tools that applied to improv in my classes, things started to change. I started having more fun, and my students started to gain confidence and their work got better. Though we never discussed specifics, together we were challenging each other.
Don't kid yourself. As a teacher, the students are very tuned in to you. They pick up if you are excited about something or just phoning it in, and when you are bringing more of your own interests and passions into class, they will benefit from it.
It is hard to teach your students to be more honest and real when you are worried what they are going to think of you. Authenticity goes both ways. You can't give away something you don't have.
Sophie Shrand is the host and creator of "Science with Sophie," a science comedy show for girls and everyone. She is an accomplished improviser in Chicago, and we talked to her about how she got through the hard times when she moved to Chicago from Boston, why it is important to her to be a role model to girls in science, and her tips on musical improv.
As you know, one of my favorite topics to talk about is shame, especially how it affects improvising and performing.
Nobody has done more research on the topic or is filled with more of it than I am. That make me an expert on the subject.
In all seriousness, it is killing me. Shame is the number one leading cause of death to artists.
If you don't know what shame is, you certainly know what it feels like. It’s the feeling of embarrassment when you bomb in a show in front of your co-workers that you invited, and the next morning, you feel so humiliated you call in sick.
Shame is as powerful as drugs and alcohol. It’s a mood altering substance.
For years, I thought for years the best way to deal with shame was to avoid situations where it may come up. But that is impossible in the arts.
In improv you often hear, “There are no mistakes.” I’ve found that people aren’t really afraid of making mistakes; they’re afraid of the feelings that come from thinking they made a mistake, and 90 percent of the time, that feeling is shame.
I want to discuss three types of shame that I continue to suffer from, in the hope that you can identify with me and share with me some of the ways you have overcome them.
I am pretty sure anyone reading this blog is pretty familiar with this kind of shame. It’s the common variety.
I can take little stuff like that to feel shame about. Why do I do that? Because I have hard time taking in good.
I know it sounds crazy. That’s because I am pretty crazy.
And yes, it looks, sounds and tastes like self-sabotage, but once you bite into the jelly doughnut, it’s not filled with strawberry filling, it’s filled with shame.
I can’t tell you how many times I have had incredible shows and leave the theater feeling elated, walking on air with peace in my heart. I am one with the world and my place in it. Then 30 minutes later, on my drive home from the theater, I find the tiniest little thing to kill the joy. By the time I am walk through the front door I feel like a loser. This 100 percent self-induced.
Sometimes you bounce back. Most of the time you don't.
Not only has this happened to me, I have seen it with my students in classes and workshops. God help us all.
How to Get Over Shame
There has to be a cure. Or at least some tools to get our emotional car unstuck from the mud.
This is where you come in. If you have experience with any of these types of shame and you have any tips or tricks to get out of them, please share them in the comments portion below and we will run them in an upcoming blog. Think of all the people you can help, including me.
This is the blog you are getting this week.
I am pretty sure it’s not my best work.
I can live with that, since when you get this
I will be finishing up a five-day vacation with my wife, Lauren, and my daughter, Betsy.
It is our first official family vacation.
Hopefully, I will have not picked a fight with Lauren
because I don't know how to relax or think I deserve
to even go on vacation.
The other problem is vacations are technically supposed to be fun.
The irony is not lost on me, since I teach improv, which, as you, know is all about having fun.
Sometimes I will finish teaching a class and as I leave the room I will hear the students say that was "really fun tonight."
I think to myself, this is the case for those who don't teach.
The point is, I struggle having fun.
No surprise.
Usually, the best part of the vacation is the day when I know I am going home.
The nice thing for me about getting older is that I am much more teachable than when I was in my arrogant 20s, 30s or 40s when I would never have the courage to go on vacation.
Even at my age the thing I have learned is that if you want to get better at something you need to at least start.
And five days is a good start for me.
Talk to you next week.
If you’ve ever watched a painfully bad sketch on SNL, you know that writing good sketches isn’t easy. While there’s no perfect formula for a funny sketch, there are a lot of important elements to consider when trying to write something that will actually make people laugh.
This week, I asked Sam Bowers, director of Improv Nerd, and Griffin Griggs to share their advice on what makes a truly great sketch.
Bowers and Griggs produced the first-ever 24-Hour Sketch Comedy Competition in May of this year, and they’re now gearing up for the second 24HSCC, happening Aug. 26 at Judy’s Beat Lounge at Second City (submissions are due Aug. 17 if you’re interested!).
Here are their thoughts on why the winners, a group called Taco Tuesdays, really stood out.
By Sam Bowers and Griffin Griggs
Taco Tuesdays swept both the judge and audience prize for “best sketch,” taking home bragging rights and over $200 in cash prizes in the first 24HSCC. Their sketch, “Rivetting Rosies,” was about four factory-working American women who were building a B-52 bomber in 1945 of the eve of the men returning from war in Europe. The women grapple with the reality of returning to mundane lives as housewives or sticking with their newfound scientific careers. (Read the complete script for the sketch here).
Here’s what we thought made this sketch work, and tips you can use in writing your own sketches:
TJ Jagodowski is one of the finest improvisers and people you will know. He's half of the long-running show TJ and Dave. In this special episode that was originally recorded for Curious City at WBEZ in Chicago, Jimmy talks to TJ about why he thinks Chicago is still the mecca of improv, his definition of Yes, And... (which is not out of the text book), and why he has stayed in Chicago to improvise.
We all want to do the perfect improv show.
Every move is brilliant.
Every edit is just right.
Every scene is hilarious.
But what happens when in the first couple of minutes of an improv show we bomb big time?
Well, if you are like me, you feel shame.
You shut down.
You become best friends with the back wall.
But what if we look at bombing at the top of the show a little differently? What if we looked at it as an enormous gift that could free us, that could help us do an even better show?
It is no different when you are doing scenes and something goes wrong.
You may say the wrong name in scene.
You may say something that contradicts the reality of the scene that has already been established.
You may think the relationship is a mother and a son and it really it turns out it is a boyfriend and girlfriend.
You may get confused that someone is playing a different gender.
This kind stuff happens all the time and the great improvisers look at these moments as opportunities. They take their time to justify the “mistake” and emotionally react to it, and 90 percent of the time they will end up getting a better scene.
Same can be said for bombing at the top of the show.
So your first scene sucked or your first musical improv song made no sense, or you made a move and confused your whole team.
I’ve made these kind of mistakes hundreds of time, and when I don’t let them get me down, a lot of the time these turn out to be some of my best shows.
I have done scenes where I flat out sucked in the first half and in the second half ended up strong because once I had made a mistake, I took the pressure off of myself to do it perfectly.
Sometimes when I make such big mistakes, something is released in me and I’m able to actually play more and have fun.
I am liberated in weird way.
So, the next time your first couple of scenes suck or you screw up in an opening of the Harold, remember it’s all part of the plan to help you do a great show.
Not a perfect show, a great show.
Jeff Michalski is an improv legend. He is a teacher, director, an improviser who was a founding member of Second City's ETC Theater back in the '80s and now teaches in Los Angeles. Jimmy sat down with Jeff to talk about what he learned working with Del, how he uses Meisner and view point techniques when he is teaching improv, and telling Stephen Colbert to start loving to bomb on stage.
I was so stupid when I starting out improvising in my 20s.
I really didn’t think I needed people. My goal was to “make it” all by myself. I laugh now thinking about it. I chose an art form that requires you to depend on other people, yet I was committed to making it all alone. So stupid. It only took me 25 years to realize I was wrong.
Last week I went on an audition for a part in a TV show. I love going into this casting agency. I have been auditioning there for years so they know my work and my personality. After the first read, the casting agent said, “Throw away the script.”
They not only know I can improvise, but they know I don’t trust myself. I can be a perfectionist, a good boy, wanting to get all of the words right that are on the page. I put more faith in my having my face buried in the script than in my own skill and instincts. This never leads to getting cast, but it feels safe.
They asked me to do it again without the script. I crumbled the script up and threw it on the floor and did it again. It went great!
Then the casting director said, “I have more confidence in you than you do in yourself.” And she was right.
When she said that, I thought about how it’s the same with my students. I typically have more confidence in their abilities than they do. I see it on a weekly basis even if they don’t. The best part is when students will see something great in each other as well and will say it to their fellow student. A compliment from the teacher is good, but a compliment from one of their peers is great.
That’s why we need other people, because they can see our worth when we can’t. Most of the time we’re blind to our own talents and we want to give up, but when we’re supported by other people, they can encourage us to keep going.
I don’t think the casting director even understood the impact she had on me. Sometimes all it takes is for someone to say that they have confidence in you to start building confidence in yourself.
So if you want to start feeling better about yourself and your talents, seek out a supportive group of friends and mentors. Yes, there are lot of needy and egotistical people in improv, acting and the arts in general, but there are also some great teachers, directors, agents, casting directors and friends who are going to see your worth before you can see it in yourself. And to succeed, you’re going to need these people.
A common thing that we hear in improv is that we need to commit in our scenes. This is true, but being committed in a scene doesn’t mean that we can’t make changes or adjustments to our characters as the scene is going along.
A good improviser is always adjusting in the moment, which includes their own choices that they make at the top of the scene. It’s totally fine if you start out with an Irish accent and slip into and Eastern European one, or you start out angry and you organically become sad, as long as you commit to the change and let go of your own judgement in your head. If you believe in what you’re doing, the audience will go along for the ride, too.
Accents are the most common adjustments for me in a scene. I cannot tell you how many times I have started a scene with a certain accent, and not only will the accent change as I go along, so will the attitude of the character. I have gotten more and more comfortable with that happening, and I’ve stopped beating myself up in the moment and started to just going with the flow.
Sometimes a player will call me out on my new accent and then I’ll have to justify it, and sometimes they won't. It doesn't matter. Yes, it is messy, and I’d rather be perfect throughout the scene, staying in my Irish accent the entire time. But ask yourself, “What is more fun: To play while trying to reproduce an accent that you dropped, or play with the one you transformed into using?”
Another thing I see a lot in my classes and workshops is students will start with a strong emotion at the top of the scene, say excitement, and then they will keep heightening and heightening the same emotion until there is nowhere to go. Since we typically do longer scenes in my class, it's clear that the student had many opportunities for his or her character to be affected emotionally by the other character and to change their emotion, but the player resists this, thinking they need to stay with one emotion.
When the scene is over, the student will say, "I thought I needed to be excited throughout the scene."
Many improvisers who are just starting out want to look at everything in black and white. But the last time I checked, improv is still an art, not a science.
In some cases, it may work for your character to stay with one emotion throughout the scene and in some cases, it won’t. This is where you need to start trusting your instincts and adjust if you need to. If you start out strong and you have nowhere to go, or you’re not having fun with your choice, adjust.
This same principle is true with object work and environment, too. Let’s say two people come out on stage and it’s clear they are in two different environments. One person makes the choice to be in a space ship and the other person is cutting grass. While you could try to incorporate both of these choices into a scene, it might work better to have one person drop their original choice and join the other person on the moon. Again, if you buy into it, the audience will buy into it.
Where you will get into trouble is when you think there is one way to play a scene, like there is some kind of formula. I have seen really experience players who have broken all kinds of rules and had wonderful scenes. Why? They are at that level where they trust their instincts.
Last month, in my Jimmy and Johnnie show, I played a mom in a scene, and the first couple of lines I said were kind of shocking things to get laughs. But I quickly realized I had misread the tone of the scene, so I needed to adjust quickly or I was going to die on stage. So instead of going for the laughs, I doubled down on heightening a version of my mom character. I focused more on how my mom character would respond honestly to what was happening. The adjustment was in my head, and the audience may not have even noticed it, but it was definitely more fun for me to play.
So be on the lookout for when you need to adjust your own choices at the top of scene, especially when they are not working.