I am often get asked the question what can improvisers do in between shows and class to get better? One thing I found that helps is to write, or more specifically to journal.

You can work out a lot of stuff on the page that can help you get out of your own way. I have also found writing on regular basis helps me to articulate my ideas, which is a plus if you’re someone who needs to think on your feet on a regular basis.

So, when I heard improviser Matthew Beard was creating an improv journal, I got excited. His new book is called “The Yes And Journal,” and he is currently doing a KickStarter through Aug. 31 to raise money to publish it.

So, this week I asked Matthew if he’d be willing to share his thoughts on how journaling can make you a better improviser. Enjoy!

1. Journaling lets you get out of your head and see your thoughts objectively
   If you have negative beliefs about yourself during class such as, “I’m not as funny as everyone else,” or “I have no reason to be here,” take the time to write those thoughts down after class. You’ll be amazed at how they will immediately feel false once you see them on paper. Trying to wrestle with these thoughts from the inside is nearly impossible, and will cause most of us to spoil our improv. Instead, take a few minutes to reflect on paper and move on.
2. Stream of consciousness journaling is an incredible solo improv exercise
   For ten minutes, try writing non-stop. Even if you have to write “I don’t know what to write,” keep going the entire time. This exercise activates your subconscious and forces you to keep making choices. You might be shocked by the creativity that flows when you let go of trying to be right. The key to applying this to improv is to focus your exercises on a purpose, like taking on a point of view, connecting to an emotion, listing a million possible solutions to a made-up problem, etc.
3. Journaling can help us connect with ourselves and our scene partners
   I’ve journaled after almost every workshop or show I’ve ever been in -- reflecting on how I felt during each scene/exercise and why that might be. When I felt great, journaling helps me remember my choices and appreciate my scene partner’s work. When I felt bad, journaling helps me see that experience in the third person and connect with why I felt that way without ego. With this practice, fear of failure disappears and you can connect more fully.
4. It can help us slow down and get real on stage
   Not everyone understands their own emotions. If you’re the kind of improviser who wants to be able to go to real places on stage, first you have to be able to understand where those feelings and points of view come from. Before you try to improvise characters on stage with emotions and opinions as dynamic as your own, it might be worth trying to answer the hard questions in your own life. Who hurt you more than anyone else? Whose love do you crave the most? How do you respond to pain? How do you internalize love? Answering questions like these as specifically and honestly as possible on paper will help you understand the impulses of your characters and feel safe playing them.
5. Mindfulness journaling is an exercise in being present
   Journaling can also be an exercise in quieting your thoughts by focusing on the present moment. Mindful writing can be as simple as making a list of what you can see, hear, and feel right now. “I hear birds chirping outside my window,” “I see paint chipping on the edge of my desk,” etc. This kind of relaxation and present-focus is good for improv and good for mental health in general. Believe me, it works.

Looking to do more compelling two-person scenes? Sign up for Jimmy's Art of Slow Comedy Level 2 Class, starting Sept. 6! The Early Bird special ends Aug. 23, so sign up today! 

Billy Merritt is one of UCB's most respected improv teachers and performers and a member of the legendary improv team The Stepfathers. I was fortunate enough to get to improvise with him for an episode of Improv Nerd at The Omaha Improv Festival a couple of years ago. I love how he improvises and his philosophy on improv and teaching.

The other day I came across a great post he wrote on Facebook about how he deals with those improv students who get defensive when he gives a note in class by saying, "But my other teacher told me to do it this way." I have had many similar experiences as a teacher and probably said this same thing a couple of times myself as a student starting out.

Anyway, I thought this would make a great guest blog, and I want thank Billy for letting print this in entirely.

ALL YOUR TEACHERS ARE WRONG!

One of the more aggravating questions I get in class is when I give a note or want a student to play a certain way at that moment in class, and the student will tell me another teacher told them not to do that, or another improv teacher gave me the opposite note.

What am I supposed to do with that information? Am I supposed to back down and say I was wrong, or am I supposed tell you the teacher is wrong and doesn't know what they're talking about? (That's what I tend to say anyways).

Improv teachers and coaches should all teach differently. They should all have different philosophies as to how to play game, do the Harold, and interpret what funny is. Don't waste time focusing on "but this teacher said that." Instead be fascinated as to how many different approaches there are to achieve the funny you want to achieve.
Yes, some teachers and coaches give notes in the “absolute.” I feel these people are still learning, still unsure if their approach is the right approach. Comedy is territorial, and we become threatened when someone finds a different way to be funny. (I, for example, still think puns are stupid).

Your job is to take it all in. “Yes And” everything that is given you, then make your own decision as to how you want to play. I have gotten notes that were polar opposites in the same class taught by two teachers. The deal is, split the difference, find the middle ground.

If a teacher is saying “I like this comedy, I can't stand this comedy,” smile, take it in, develop your own opinion. If a teacher spends any time dissing other schools or comedic techniques, or an entire city's comedy structure, GET OUT.

The point is, every improv teacher has great stuff to give you, and also, stuff you don't need. Treat the great stuff as precious, and let the other stuff go. Study with different teachers, rotate your coaches, learn different styles. Except puns, nothing good ever came from a pun.
Ready to take your improv to the next level? There are still a few spots available in Jimmy's Art of Slow Comedy Summer Intensive Aug. 19-20. The Early Bird deadline ends Aug. 1. Sign up today!

When we think of the people who are in the improv community, performers, teachers, directors and even the people who run the theaters come to mind. But there are other people who may not possess those same talents who also have a special place in the community.

Ken Manthey was one of those people. Ken died this week.

When Ken first showed up at The Annoyance Theater’s dingy, original theater on Broadway  back in the late ’80s, he was at least ten years older than all of us and he had real, adult day job, booking Disney films into movie theaters.

He would show up on the weekends and watch shows, sometimes four in one night. He sat in the first row on the aisle. That was Ken's seat and he was so protective of that shitty yellow plastic folding chair that he put his jacket on it to save it. He was proud of being the Annoyance’s Number One Fan. After the show he would go down to the bar with the rest of us derelicts. Sometimes he would drink too much and end up sleeping on the couch in theater.

Then after watching Co-ed Prison Sluts close to a million times and working the box office, he became an actor in that show. In those days, you got cast by hanging out and being a nice person. Ken did both. He played the Warden, which was a thankless part. He only had a couple of lines at the top of the show and a couple of lines at the end and an hour-and-a-half to kill in between, during which he would sit at Mick's wooden desk and count the money from that night's box office.

As my friend Gary Rudoren reminded me in his Facebook post this week, Ken “would go from working the box office right into playing the Warden in ‘Co-ed Prison Sluts,’ and I realized he was probably the only actor to be on stage with hundreds upon hundreds of dollars in his pocket.”

Ken was not much of an actor. He was stiff. His delivery was always the same -- flat and self-conscious. When he did get a laugh, you were never really sure how. Susan Messing called him "our Larry Bud Melman." She was right. But he was not there to become a star, or to be in a hit show, or to get more stage time. Like most of us, he was there to feel like he belonged, to have a sense of community, to be part of something. He found his family at The Annoyance.

I am lucky to be in Chicago where there are lot of people who contribute to this community in their own way. I think of Jerry Schulman who photographs every important comedy event and improv show that is going on in the city. And Tom Vencill who has come to countless Improv Nerd shows and holds the record for attending Messing With a Friend the most number of times. There is Adam Jacobs who audio record shows live improv shows. These people are often taken for granted, but they are as much a part of the community as the performers, teachers and directors.

We need all sorts of talents in our community, and sometimes we only place value on what happens on stage, but when I heard about Ken’s passing, I was reminded that we also should be grateful for all of the people who contribute to the community in their own way.

(By the way, the Annoyance will be holding a memorial for Ken on Sunday, July 30 at 3 p.m. for all of those who wish to attend.)

Who in your community makes contributions that go unnoticed? We'd love to hear about them.

Only 4 spots still available in Jimmy's Art of Slow Comedy Intensive, happening July 29-30. Sign up today!

I am always happy to hear from people across the world about how much Improv Nerd has helped them with their improv, especially in remote countries that have little or no exposure to formal improv training. I am really humbled by how much of an impact Improv Nerd has had on so many improvisers.

Now, after almost six years of doing this tiny podcast, we want to continue to inspire and educate not only improvisers, but also improv teachers. I especially want to share with you some things I have learned along the way – such as various games, exercises and improv teaching tips that have been road-tested in the classroom over that last 25 years -- that can make you an even more effective improviser and teacher.

So how are we going to do this? By creating original video content on a platform called Patreon.

We have over 100 hours of never-before-seen video footage from our live Improv Nerd shows and interviews that have never been released. So once a month, we are going to release a full video episode of an Improv Nerd live show or an interview that we have recorded on Patreon. These videos have great improv tips and advice from some of the biggest names in improv, including Rachel Dratch, Jane Lynch, Scott Adsit, Dave Koechner and many, many more.

Also, each month I am going to record a mini improv training video with a game or exercise that I use in my Art of Slow Comedy classes and workshops that you can use in your rehearsals, or if you’re a teacher, in your own classes and workshops. My goal with this is to make people better improviser and better improv teachers.

So how can support us? Just head over to Patreon and become an Improv Nerd supporter. We wanted to make this improv-affordable, so by donating just $5 per month, you will have access to our video archive of never-before-seen Improv Nerd episodes, and at $10 per month, you can also get our monthly improv video tutorials, plus more!

We would really appreciate your support in getting this off the ground. And, as always, thank you for listening!

Hurry! Only a few spots are left in Jimmy's July 29-30 and Aug. 19-20 summer intensives here in Chicago. Come experience his unique method in this 8-hour workshop. Sign up today!

In an ideal world, you always want to improvise with people who are better and more experienced than you because they make you better. But realistically, that doesn’t always happen. And sometimes improvising with people who aren't as experienced can not only help with your confidence, it can also be fun, and a great learning experience providing you have the right mind set.

That’s what John Hildreth and I did in our last Jimmy and Johnnie show at Second City. Typically, we hand pick an experienced improviser to play with us as our special guest. This time we decided to do something a little more risky. We asked the audience to put their names in a bucket and we picked four people to play with us in two 20 minute sets. In both sets, we ended up playing with people who had either little to no experience or people who had taken a couple of classes at Second City.

As John said to me before the show, "There should be no expectations," which is always a good thing with doing improv. That’s when you usually have your best shows.

When you’ve been doing a show a certain way for several years, trying something completely new can be both exciting and scary. And most importantly, it puts the emphasis back on the process, which allows you start to learn again.

I forgot how much fun it is to be in that place. This is what still makes me excited about doing improv — when I am knee-deep in the process.

Both sets were a success and a learning experience. Playing with less experienced improvisers made John and me rely on each other more and focus more on our craft. It made me less tentative and forced me to make stronger choices, to be less judgmental and to agree more aggressively. John and I did a great job of giving our special guests gifts – some of which they used and some of which they never opened. We worked tirelessly to include them and make them look good.

When it was over, John and I where both exhausted. We had worked our improv asses off. But even though it was hard work, I had a complete blast helping these newer improvisers shine.

I am not saying go out and find people who have less experience to play with. I think it’s always better to play with people who are more seasoned when you can. But the next time you have to play with people who are less experienced, instead of grumbling about it, use it as an opportunity to grow. See how often you can set someone else up to look good. Do your best to let someone else get the laughs. By simply changing your mind set, you’ll be amazed at how it will increase your confidence and at how much fun it will be.

Want to try a new approach to improv? Sign up for Jimmy's (Fun)damentals of Improv Class, starting July 12. Only a few spots left!

One thing I have learned along the way is if you want to keep what you have learned, you need to give it away on a regular basis. That’s why teaching others how to do improv is such a privilege.

I am grateful to have gotten to study, work and perform with some of the greatest improv teachers of all time. They were both generous and patient with me and with their time. And I am humble enough that most of the time I continue to learn from my students as well.

So, today, I wanted to give you some more improv teaching tips in the hope you can become the best improv teacher ever. (Okay, maybe I might have overreached on that, but it’s just because I am so excited to share this stuff with you. Teaching improv and sharing my experience still makes me very excited about this crazy art form.)

1. Let Go of the Results and Your Students Will Have Better Results
   As improv teachers, we think we are in the results business. We think it’s our responsibility for our students to "get it," and if they don't, we think we have failed as teachers. This is a hard one for me, because I often think my self-worth as a teacher is tied to my students’ progress, which I can tell you is losing proposition for all those involved. The reality is my job is to just share with them what I can, and whether or not they “get it” is not up to me.I wish that every student in my improv class “got it” and thought I was the greatest teacher they ever had, but that’s not realistic. The truth is, some students will put it all together in your class and some will hopefully find it later in another person’s class, but when I can let go of the results and take the pressure off myself to be the perfect teacher, the student somehow start to improve.

2. The Importance of Warm Up Games
   This is something I learned from one of my improv teachers, Martin DeMaat: Warm-up games are essential. Some improv teachers don't see the importance of them. They want to cut right too scene work or throw the students right into doing a Harold. Yes, warm up games take time. Yes, they seem silly and not as important as going right into working on scenes or a long form. I can assure you, however, that by playing warm-up games, students can go deeper and be more grounded in their scenes, not to mention take more risks, if they have warmed up.But another important aspect of warm-up games that people don't seem to talk about is that this is where you can assess the class’s energy for that day. Each day your students will come into class with a totally different energy, and it’s important to adjust your teaching to how they are feeling.

   I remember one time my students came into class all tired and with low energy. Maybe it was the weather or the traffic for some or that they had just had a shitty day at work, but when they began to warm up, they looked like they were zombies. They had brought their day into class, which gave me an opportunity to make an adjustment. I had them walk around the room and talk about their shitty day and how they were feeling. This helped me know where they were at so I didn't need to take it personally and so I could keep adjusting to the energy. And once they had a chance to speak about how they were feeling, their negative energy seemed to lift.

3. Keep Good Time Boundaries
   Students want to feel that they are being taken care of, and by starting and ending class on time, you are creating a safe and nurturing environment where people feel protected by boundaries.This is something I’m still working on. I am great at starting the class on time. I used to wait until everyone had arrived to start, and then I realized, why should the people who show up on time be penalized? So now I always start on time, no matter what. Unfortunately, I still run over at the end of class, which I know is not good, but I cannot stop myself. But I know the more I stick to the time boundaries, the more respect and trust the students will have in me.

Want to try a new approach to improv, or experience it for the first time? Sign up for Jimmy's Art of Slow Comedy Level 1 class, starting July 12! Use the code SUMMER to get $30 off.

A weird thing has happened to me in the last couple of years. I had realized that I like teaching improv far more than I like improvising. It seems when I am up on stage improvising, I still put a lot of pressure on myself, something I don't do often when I’m teaching it.

In fact, there is nowhere I feel more comfortable than in a classroom or at a corporate training teaching improv. Teaching is in my wheel house, and it’s something I have become really good at. I have secret, just between us: I don’t just like teaching improv; I love it. I love it a lot.

I love bringing people together who don't really know each other that well and creating an ensemble where they feel comfortable enough to be vulnerable, and then be brave enough to use it in their work. This ensemble may exist only for a short period of time -- a couple of hours or several months -- but out of it comes some memorable scenes, and sometimes, even friendships.

I love helping people find their voice on stage as well as off stage. Nothing makes me happier than to see a shy, timid student start to make bold choices on stage or when that same student starts to speak up in the class and share his opinions or ask a lot more questions. And it gives me joy to see a more experienced student step up to become a leader.

I love watching burned out improvisers who have been through the improv ringer or who have stopped doing it for a couple years get excited and inspired about improv all over again.

I love seeing the invisible student, so quiet you forget they are even there, start to get out there on stage more, become louder and take up more space.

I love those students who come into my class bouncing off the walls with energy and talking at light speed learn to slow down and play it real and start to share a part of themselves with us without even realizing it.

I love seeing students constantly surprise me, showing me characters or taking risks I have never seen before.

I love to see them go on and find a theater where they get on a team or get cast in a show or create their own groups or shows. I especially love when students want to become teachers themselves.

I know I have said this before, but when I started out in back in ’80s, if you dared to say you wanted to be an improv teacher or director, people thought you were giving up on your dreams. We all wanted to be performers. We all wanted to be famous.

Well, I am finally brave enough to admit that while I would still like to be famous, being an improv teacher is one of the most rewarding life decisions I have ever made.

Jimmy Carrane would LOVE to work with you! Sign up for his Art of Slow Comedy Level 1 class, starting July 12.
Or sign up for one of his three Art of Slow Comedy Summer Intensives happening this summer. Early Bird Deadline for the class is June 28 and for the first summer intensive is June 24! 

This Sunday is Father's Day, and except for the fact that I already know Lauren’s going to give me a present, I am not really that excited about it. Actually, I am embarrassed. As a father, I feel like a fraud. I feel like I’m not a real father, because in the first year since Betsy was born, all I’ve had to do is rock her to sleep, feed her, change her diaper, and play with her.

To me, this is not parenting. I know, I am crazy. But parenting to me is when I have to start "teaching" them something or setting limits. I think when I can start saying "no” to Betsy and have her understand it, then I will have arrived as a parent.

To me, parenting is about being an authority figure, cracking the whip. Saying things like, “No, you can’t get a treat at the store. We’re going to go home and have dinner,” and having your kid have a complete meltdown. Or yelling something like, “Hey! Quiet down, already!”

It’s also about doing things like teaching how to ride a bike or tie her shoes. Those seem like legit, fatherly things — things that are useful. But just hanging out on the floor and playing with her stacking toys? That just feels like babysitting.

How sad is that, especially for an improviser? Why can't I enjoy this time when the majority of the time is hanging out and playing with her? Why is that not fatherly? Because that is not how I am programmed. I make fun work.

I have been cast in probably one the best roles in my life as a caring, kind, benevolent father, and all I can think is I know a hundred other people who play the part better. People say to me, “How can you not feel like a father? She looks just like you.” It’s true, but trust me, that doesn't matter when you are nuts like me.

I want to be a good father and to be the caring, kind, benevolent father that I’d like to be, but I have to believe I deserve it. And I think that starts with believing that hanging out, being present, and playing are just as valuable as teaching. Here’s hoping I start believing.

Feeling rusty in your improv? Get back into the swing of things with Jimmy's Art of Slow Comedy Summer Intensive. The Early Bird Deadline for the July 15-16 intensive is June 24. Sign up today!

My wife, Lauren, and I were lying on the living room rug playing with our 11-month-old daughter, Betsy. She was playing quietly with these wooden blocks, and I was holding one in my hand when Lauren said, "Give it to her. Give her the block."

As you might suspect I don't like to be told what to do, especially around the subject of play. I was hurt and shut down. I handed Betsy the block, but I held onto the resentment towards Lauren.

In my mind, Lauren was trying to control how we were playing, and this was a good lesson for me, because I cannot tell you how many times I have done this when I have been improvising. Hundreds of times, I kid you not. This doesn't count the millions of times I’ve done it in my life, as well.

If you don't have a clue what I am talking about in terms of improv, let me give you some examples. Have you ever done a scene where you are literally telling people what to do on stage, or where you were talking so much you didn't give them space to respond, or you "steam rolled" the scene with your brilliant premise? Or have you ever played the same angry character over and over again? All of those are attempts to try to control how a scene goes, effectively trying to control how other people play.

Just so you know, I know what I am talking about because I have been guilty of these things for years, and I’d like to apologize to all of the improvisers who have been affected by me playing this way. Whenever I have tried to control a scene, the motivation has always been the same: Fear. Control is just a more PC name for fear.

As I look back at all the times I went out on stage and tried to control the scene, it was usually because I held myself back and was afraid to get out there, or because I was afraid that other people on my team were more talented, getting more stage time, and getting more laughs, and I needed to put to a stop to it.

The great thing about improv is the audience is the judge in all of this. They know when someone is trying to control another person’s actions on stage by “steam rolling” a scene or not allowing someone else to speak. The audience may not be able to articulate it, but they won’t laugh as much or applaud as loudly.

If you are a smart enough player — even if you refuse to listen to your teachers, or directors or teammates — you will eventually realize the audience is telling you the truth. And as painful as is it, it might be in everyone’s best interest to let go of your control schtick.

Play is a sacred thing. There are no rules to it; just ask Betsy. That is what improv classes are all about - trying to relearn the skills that have been beaten out of us over a lifetime so we can play like we did when were 11 months old. Control stops the play. It replaces the joy and spontaneity with fear and anxiety. It makes it 100 times harder to be creative.

If you have been guilty of being controlling as I have been, I get it that habits are hard to break. And if you get anything from this silly little blog, I hope it’s that you have become aware that by trying to control others really doesn’t work — in improv or in life.

Feeling a little rusty in your improv? Get back in shape with Jimmy's Art of Slow Comedy Summer Intensives, July 15-16, July 29-30 and Aug. 19-20. Sign up today!

When people first work with me, especially after the first class, they say things like, "Your class is like therapy," or "That scene was not funny," or "Oh my God, in that exercise you made that person cry."

Generally, people view this as a bad thing. I get it; emotions are scary and it’s not what people are expecting in an improv class.

But the truth is all I did was create a space for people to feel comfortable enough to express those kinds of emotions, and by expressing emotions, the group will bond at light speed. What  connects people faster than someone being vulnerable?

I think all emotions are necessary in comedy, including sadness, so when an exercise or scene causes someone to cry, they are providing a gigantic gift for the rest of us, including the teacher. They are helping all of us who are having a hard time accessing that emotion to be able to feel it themselves.

And if everyone, including the teacher, does not try sweep those messy emotions under the rug and instead embrace them, they have the opportunity to do some pretty cool work.

I have seen it firsthand class after class, workshop after workshop: When someone is courageous enough to access tears and the group gives itself permission to feel the sadness, too, it will always inspire some amazing scenes. Typically, after someone is vulnerable, the group listens better, they are more emotionally connected to each other, and their scenes are truly funny.

Yes, funny. Just because sadness has been expressed does not mean we are going to see a whole slew of melodramatic or heavy scenes. By one person expressing sadness, something gets released for the group, and now the players have more colors of paint to use on the canvas.

They do this without any effort, just by using the natural emotion that is present in the room, they have tapped into a vein of gold.

I totally get that my approach to improv, The Art of Slow Comedy, is not for everyone. I know that I have just as many fans as I have people who think I am bat shit crazy.

But I do think the arts — and especially improv — is a healing profession. If it’s true that laughter is the best medicine, we give out more medication than most 24-hour Walgreens.

And the more we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, the more we have an opportunity to heal the audience and, most importantly, ourselves.

That is why I teach the way I teach, because it gives me an opportunity to heal myself. And God knows I need it.

Looking to go to a deeper place with your improv? Sign up for one of Jimmy's Art of Slow Comedy Summer Intensive, happening July 15-16. The Early Bird Deadline is June 24!