This is a post about improv.
I’ve been in a bit of an improv rut for a little while. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure when it began, but I do know that I’ve left scenes, and by extension, shows, feeling like I had left opportunities on the table – whether it’s for laughs, or for doing the best work I can.
Part of the problem stems from the fact that improv used to mainly involve this (fig. 1):
Improv when you’re first learning it.
It was a fairly easy formula. Come up with something that you think would be fun and/or interesting, and do your best to play the role you find yourself in. If you managed to combine the two, you had a successful improv scene.
Now, however, some of what I’m working on looks/feels more like this (fig. 2):
Improv when you’re trying to learn and apply more advanced techniques.
And to be honest, that’s a bit simplistic in and of itself – I can come up with a number of additional variables that I can throw in, but the diagram starts to get increasingly unwieldy.
It’s a little like working on your golf swing – when you’re at the driving range (or playing a practice round), you want to work on your technique. On your shot selection. On knowing when to use what club, and how to swing it. On how to generate more power, or less, more spin, or less.
But when you’re playing a round with your friends, you just want to play. You want to take your technique (wherever it’s at, since you’re not going to fix it during that round on the course) and maximize it, and play the best round you can, given where you are at that moment.
That’s what I’ve been lacking; I haven’t been able to perform in a show like it was a round of golf. I’ve been too busy playing like I’m still on the driving range.