If standing on a stage in front of strangers with one or two others but no script; no idea what anyone will be acting, saying, doing – if that is right up there with some of your worst fears ever (think public speaking in your underwear, that type of nightmarish fear), then you’ve got an idea of what improvisers are up against, every time they step onto the stage.
The ‘face-your-fears’ school of thought is but one reason I signed up for an eight-week ‘intro to improv’ class with Edmonton’s Grindstone Theatre. People told me that every actor should take improv, and since I act a little, and am always up for a challenge – off I went.
Each week this February and March, our crew of 10 – students, moms, theatre artists, an army recruit/stand-up comedian – would meet in a church basement in Old Strathcona for a couple of hours of play – circle-based word games and miming ones too, learning skills in listening and trust, and eventually leading to five-minute short form scene work with a partner or two or three.
Sometimes two of us would stand in the middle of the room and the others would suggest a location or an object we imagined holding. Armed with just that, we were off, conjuring, miming and dialoguing about where we were, what we were doing, what our names and relationships were to each other – once we were in a medieval forest saving a kingdom; another time two co-workers were mowing grass into a maze shape and talking about one guy’s drinking problem. It was a lot to imagine and keep straight while attempting to add to a story, create a problem, remember ‘what he said his name was?’ – it caused my head to hurt on more than one Sunday evening.
Byron Martin, founder of Grindstone Theatre and teacher of our group, said improvisation is essentially about story-telling – working with a scene partner to build characters and scenarios – action, drama or comedy that an audience will care about, and usually with a beginning, a ‘tilt’ or dramatic crisis of some sort, and then a resolution or conclusion. Usually, but not always. Sometimes it’s just a sketch comedy piece – funny business that happens between two or more people in silly situations – think Lucille Ball and Ethel trying to manage the conveyor belt of ever faster-moving chocolates, stuffing them in their mouths and down their shirts to keep up.
“Improv is about being open to an idea – that’s the ‘yes’ which one scene partner gives another to build on a story, develop character etc.,” said Martin. “The ‘and’ part is taking the offer from your scene partner and furthering it – upping the ante, creating a conflict (tilt) and sometimes resolving. If you’re not listening to offers and cues the scene partner gives you, then it’s hard to build a story together – a ‘no’ stops the ideas, the action, the scene, and you have nowhere to go with it. So you always want to say yes, and …”
Martin knows of what he speaks. The 26-year-old Edmonton native grew up doing improv at school, and then parlayed his musical theatre education (from MacEwan University and a master’s degree from Scotland) into his own theatre company. While stand-up and acting classes are part of his repertoire, improv has a special place in Martin’s heart and on his performance resume.
“I love improv because it’s an exercise in listening, in responding, in knowing your ideas are worth sharing. I think all actors should be improvisers since it holds up the definition of ‘living truthfully’ under imaginary circumstances,” Martin said. “And I think every person should try improv because it helps you be a better person; to say yes, to make a connection and to step outside yourself.”
St. Albert actor and playwright Josh Languedoc has pursued improv as a performer and teacher, for much the same reasons.
“I love the ability to react fast. As adults we often forget how fun it is to play and be a little crazy, and improv teaches us to fully embrace our silly impulses,” he said. “Even when you’re young, improv is a wonderful means to express yourself and fully explore an idea without being labeled as wrong or incorrect. I find so much freedom in improv as an art form – it’s especially great for those who feel reserved or shy, or feel they ‘live life safely.’
Together with three fellow St. Albert actors, Languedoc has started Go 4 Broke Productions, which currently performs the Improv Power Hour at Blues on Whyte, and will stage Improv Against Humanity – The Bigger Blacker Box at this year’s Edmonton International Fringe Festival. “We’re also starting the family-friendly Kid-libs improv show, and are doing workshops and performances at all levels of schools.”
Languedoc said that while improv is booming in Edmonton (Rapid Fire Theatre, Grindstone Theatre’s 11 O’Clock Number – a new, improvised musical every week at the Varscona Theatre – and more), it’s been a harder sell in St. Albert. Occasionally offered through the St. Albert Children’s Theatre and Amplify Festival, improv classes here have maintained a low-key, youth focus.
“I think St. Albert is a reserved community, with an image of being safe and secure. Perhaps improv is seen as zany and sometimes crude, so the type of improv shows that may do best here will be family-friendly and positive/uplifting forms,” he said.
For we sometimes terrified adults quaking in our boots at improv class, Martin said it’s not exactly a matter of being ‘thrown out there without a safety net.’ In fact, part of the point of classes is to learn the tricks of the trade – the skills performers can draw upon to have a successful and fun time on stage, not a painful one.
“The more you do it, the more you practice, the better you get and easier it becomes. It’s like working a muscle – that’s why we do the games and keep adding to them – you acquire a bag of skills,” Martin said.
My improv classmate Stefan Makowski said he likes comedy, and hopes the improv class will help him gain confidence in pursuing that. “It makes me want to take more,” he said.
Mom and former theatre student Donna Durand said the class is “scary, but everyone should do it. The best humour happens in the moment.”
Martin said he plans to expand Grindstone Theatre’s season next year, but for now he’ll continue to ‘live my dream day job” teaching the likes of me how to listen and play. “I teach in schools too, and kids just connect to that creative concept of passing energy to another. It’s great to see and be part of.”
I found improv to be challenging and invigorating – it absolutely forces you to be in the moment and listen to your fellow performers. But if you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to rest my brain awhile before I get back at it.
