This is a post about improv.

There are, they say, three fundamental ways to learn things.  You can learn by doing.  You can learn by reading.  You can learn by watching/listening (lectures also fall into this third category).  I’ve always been pretty good at learning by any method, although the “learn by doing” method generally tends to lead to the best results for me.

I’m still relatively new to the world of improv – although I had been a fan of the art (and I do believe it is an art) in the past, I never felt compelled to try it until about two years ago, when I took my first class (I had to convince myself it would help my writing, which, to be fair to past me, it did.) and fell in love with it.

What started as a fun thing to try became a fun thing I do quite a lot of, especially now that I perform pretty regularly on a number of teams around LA (<shamelessplug> including Hooligan, every Friday at iO West! </shamelessplug>).

But there’s a problem with performing a lot.  You learn a ton, sure, and you have a good time, naturally, but you stop watching shows.  When I started classes, we were required to watch shows throughout the week.  Not only was it fun (and we were given passes to watch them for free, a nice perk), but it also taught us what to look for, what to strive for, what the people who are much, much better than us do (and even the mistakes that they still make!).  But when you perform a lot, you stop watching.  You keep performing, and rehearsing, and reading, but you stop watching.

And that’s sad.  Because last night I was reminded how much you can learn by watching.

I had a show (<shamelessplug> Thursday Night Formal, hosted by Corn & Pineapple, every second Thursday at iO West! </shamelessplug>) last night, and we invited a group called Big Bennessy to perform.  They’re comprised of veteran improvisers, all very talented, very smart, very funny people.

Watching them put on a show was so much fun, and so educational, it was incredible.  I was reminded just how much we learn when we’re watching, whether it’s understanding the structure of a joke, or the way someone remembers to keep acting in a scene even when they’re not involved in the current conversation, or just the sense that if you have something small to do you should just do it, and then when it turns into something else you should let it happen.

I was also reminded that I need to get back to watching shows.  And if you like improv, you should, too.