This is the next part of the Patsy Rodenburg talk I linked to below.
I think this is (perhaps) another way of looking at Keith Johnstone’s status work. 1st circle is low status, 3rd circle is high status, and 2nd circle is the status player (someone who can adapt their status to the situation). She also makes the connection that it is only in the 2nd circle that one has to be ‘in the moment’.
Edit: Oops! fixed the link.
This mind-blowing exercise I learnt from Patti Stiles at last years NZ Improv Festival.
Again I think this ties in well with the other exercises I’ve been talking about, but I might not play them in this sequence, I might do this one, then the others, then this one again to see if it helps.
Here’s how it works;
Everyone in pairs, find yourselves a space in the room. Person A is going to play the role of the worst improviser imaginable. Person B is going to play the role of the best improviser imaginable. A, try and make the scene fail. B, try and make the scene succeed. Go!
After a few minutes I’ll swap them over without discussion.
Then we talk about successful strategies for both roles. Then we try it again, encouraging each side to try different approaches, and pointing out that if they can succeed when someone is actively working against them then improv will be easy for the rest of their lives.
It’s impossible to describe all the possible ways this game can go, but I assure you, the first time you see the good improviser flip things on the bad improviser so that it looks like they’re both working together (and making them both look brilliant) you’ll be hooked.
It’s a great proof of the fact that No one can block you but yourself (As Jeff Wirth said in this wonderful but long lost article), and that if you treat your partner like a genius and a poet then they will become one.
Following on from stop at the same time, I enjoy ‘leave for the same reason’. This is an exercise I’ve read in Impro for Storytellers many times, but never tried until recently. Turns out it was just what I was looking for.
How I play it,
Four chairs in a line. Four people up. The aim of the game is, everyone must leave for the same reason. But! No talking.
Some groups will get this first time, others will struggle a bit. Once they’ve succeeded a few times, usually as a result of very strong mime offers from one person (miming a bus timetable, checking watch, everyone gets on the bus) we add in another rule.
Now, just like with stop at the same time, you’ve got to make it so I can’t guess who’s idea it was.
This is where things get really interesting. The players have to totally focus on what the others are doing if they want to succeed. If they’re struggling I’ll either either side coach a little (”Dan just yawned.” “Emma just scratched her arm”), or we might stop and ask the audience what possibilities they saw. I’ll also rewind them if I can tell one person is leading. After a while we start to see players amazingly in sync with one another, picking up and amplifying offers made by others (one of my students very astutely compared it speak in one voice). An exciting discovery we might make at this point is that other players are always making offers, even if they don’t realize it, we just have to look for them.
I sometimes teach this along with the Sandy Carroll games from the Improv Handbook (also known as ‘Yes, Sounds good to me, I’ll go along with that’).
I like this warm-up/exercise. Not sure where it came from, though I learnt the variations from the excellent Dan Allan.
Everyone walk around the room, if you see an open space walk into the space.
Now when any person in the group stops, I want everyone to stop. When anyone starts walking again, everyone starts walking.
(for young students I’ll first have them start and stop when I start/stop. I’ll also ask them only to the be the leader once each).
Good. Now try and make it so that I can’t guess who’s idea it was to stop or start.
Same thing, but let’s move faster!
Extra for experts. When you’re stopped you also have the option of all jumping at the same time, or all lying down at the same time.
I’ve been collecting together improv terms I find useful, and as I was doing so I remembered barbequing.
Barbequing is something I see commonly in High School Theatre Sports teams (especially all-male teams).
A problem is established (Broke the priceless vase, pet tiger is sick etc). Not knowing what to do about it, the onstage players call on players from offstage until the whole team is standing in a semicircle around the problem in a pose very similar to blokes standing around a bbq.
I’ve been revising my introductory lesson plans.*
Generally, after introducing the concept of yesand, I’ll get the students to work on it using Yesand experts
Quick description:
The students pretend to be experts on a topic. They take turns making statements about the topic and must agree completely with any statements made by the other player. Traditionally this is done by starting each sentence with ‘yes! and…’
As an exercise it can be a little hit and miss so I’ve started substituting a slightly different exercise that hasn’t failed me yet.
It’s called Good Times**.
Two students are both recounting an experience that they shared together. They take turns remembering something that happened, and must agree completely with what the other player said. Sentences start with ‘yesand’ or I high energy ‘yeah yeah yeah…and!’
The more enthusiasm this is played with the better.
The fact that it is more story based makes it more intuitive, and more useful.
After this I sometimes use some tricks I stole from Emma Brittenden. Where the students pretend to be two old ladies who start every sentence with ‘oooh, I know…’, or two robots that start every sentence with ‘affirmative…’ or any other pair of characters that inspires the students.
*Of course I change depending on how the class is going, but these are the exercises I tend to hit early on.
**I learnt this game from noted improviser and card manipulator Javier Jarquin.
I’ve found that when I’m improvising I can only work on one thing at time.
So for example, if I decide that for this show I will work on making more specific offers then that is fine, but if I decide I will work on making specific offers and making strong character choices then I will probably do neither.
I have to remind myself of this when I’m teaching. Because new students have so many things they could be working on it’s very easy to overload them.
Focus on one thing. Do it so often that it can be done without thinking. Then move on to the next thing.
Chaplin films are that rare kind of classic that is actually still enjoyable. I was rewatching The Great Dictator a few weeks ago and noticed this amazing scene, which I would love to show all my students when I’m teaching them status.
I remember several years ago, while touring, going to an improv show.
The style of play can be summed up by this little snippet
setting: a fish and chip shop
A: There’s a severed head in this deep fryer.
B: Isn’t it your wife’s head?
A: (unfazed) why, so it is.
Now, this complete lack of emotional response is pretty much always
good for a laugh (there’s a rather fun game called ’stiff upper lip’
that plays on this), but like so many things that are always good for
a laugh, you’re really selling all your narrative stocks for a quick comedic gain,
rather than letting them grow for the big (potential) pay off.
Whenever I see a scene where people remain unaffected by big events (and as often as not ‘people’ is really me) I always think to myself ‘that was a bit of a ‘head in the deep fryer’ moment’.
Here’s some wonderful advice for teaching youngsters from Emma Brittenden, who is an awesome teacher of drama and improv.
Dress smartly
Read books or do something boring before teaching young ones
Do something silly before teaching teenagers
Smile.
Ask students about their days and listen. Don’t offer advice.
Ally yourself with the students, against the world.
Generally, suggest things directly to pre-teens; suggest things ‘other people would profit by doing’ to teens.
Don’t acknowledge students’ neuroses. Instead, speak generally to students as if they’re acting in the opposite manner.
Praise hard-work.
Praise anything the students do that’s outside of their comfort-zone, but don’t acknowledge that you know it was uncomfortable for them.
Never tell students off: it only makes you look weak.
If a student’s not trying, act unperturbed, back off and spend more time with the rest of the class.
Only mention yourself if in a self-deprecating way, and only if the lesson’s going well.
Practise what you preach.
Associate the class with success. If they’re silly on a particular day, change the lesson to harness this.