iO Summer Intensive: Week One in Review

Hoooo boy what a busy 7 days I've had this past week. I'll give a broad overview here and as I iron out time to write in my very full schedule I may manage to come back to specific things. I took a lot of notes!

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The first day really had its tone set by the welcome we were given to the ceremony. All 143 intensive students were gathered in the Del Close Theatre and Charna (the owner and co-founder of iO) gets ready to enter. We can tell that she's coming because she's preceded, no, heralded by her dog Stella. She then spends a few moments on stage debating across the room with instructors whether or not we should get started. I say debating, but what I mean is Charna wanted to start, they suggested we could stand to wait a little longer, Charna started anyway. It was pretty funny.

I am really glad to be a member of the section I'm in which is filled out with some very talented people from around the world. Our class has people from California to New York to Australia to Sweden (and a couple states/countries in-between) and there's a pretty wide set of performance experience among us. Our week one instructor was Bill Arnett and he essentially guided us into scenework and essentially playing ourselves. From the way he taught, I get the feeling that he was teaching us a lot of dangerous secret techniques that are banned at this dojo. He also kept saying, "believe it or not, sometimes people struggle with this" after we'd do surprisingly well our first run through exercises. We learned a bit about openings here, a bit about scenework there, a little of how to gather inspiration, and a little more about varitions on edits. Then on Thursday (the final day in our week) he drew out a diagram of what the classic harold looks like and then insisted it didn't really need to be that way. We did three harolds which had bright spots and weak parts, but were shining examples of the work we'd done and the amount we'd grown as a class. With week 2 starting tomorrow morning, I'd say that we've only just started to get very comfortable with each other.

It was Wednesday before I decided I was ready to play without reservation and accordingly it was Wednesday before I felt like I did anything really fun in class. Nobody else has mentioned feeling antsy about performing with new people, but I doubt I'm the only one who feels trepidation about it. At any rate, I'm doing my best to get to know the people I'm with better while also stealing all of their good and fun habits while they're on stage.

There's a lot of things I like about the program so far, but my favorite has to be that I've met so many people who I would have probably never met if the intensive didn't exist. I've spoken to a fellow student from Pakistan whose love of this artform is downright inspirational and who reaffirms my idea that improvisation is a life-changing thing. I've done an incredibly silly but very well rounded scene with a classmate from Sweden that felt better than some scenes I've done with people I've worked with for years. I even learned what Lance Storm's wrestling school was like from a Canadian classmate who studied there for a little while! This improv thing isn't nothin', y'all. To bring together this many talented, kind, smart, and wonderful people, it's gotta be a pretty big deal.

Have Fun and Indulge A Little!

I had a workshop with the very talented and insightful Adal Rifai of iO Chicago and he gave me something very interesting to consider. The key to entertaining improv, in my opinion, is fun. If the performers enjoy themselves, the audience will enjoy themselves. However, I've been routinely stopping myself from having the all of the fun available to me in scenes without noticing it. Part of me thinks that I was playing scenes with a fear that fun is a limited resource and if I took all the opportunities that presented themselves to me I'd eventually run out of them. The other part comes from this weird "take your medicine" thought process that I've found planted deep in my brain. It took someone calling it out for me to actually notice how much those thought processes can limit my work.

I'd start by collecting the ingredients for the scene. Defining the location, naming the characters, labeling the relationship, all of that good stuff. Then I'd combine them and work with them but never take the time to really explore or justify them. It was always a mentality of "that's good, but what's next?" instead of just accepting that what's next comes from what came before. My scene partners and I would spend the whole scene generating awesome, silly ideas and would never get the chance to give them the attention they deserved. We go in and bake 40 cakes but get to eat exactly none of them because as soon as they came out of the oven we were onto the next thing.

It's like Lex didn't even take the time to realize I meant metaphorical cake.

That workshop got me to slow down and do the thing that I always wanted to do in scenes but I avoided because I thought it'd come off as too indulgent. But indulgence is the whole thing! Why run from it? Because I might have a good time? Because I might not get to rattle off my 20 other ideas that I also won't have time to explore? It's such a strange, needlessly difficult tactic. Plowing blindly ahead almost assures that I'll never find the joy in what I'm doing, which is a real shame. I'm going to be sure to stop and smell the pantomime roses and eat every single improv-cake that I find myself baking.

The Journey Begins

I woke up at 5:45 yesterday morning and with a focus unsuited to the early hour I packed and tidied my house and stepped outside to be ferried off to my destination. Honestly, the day was a million times better than I expected it to be considering all of the anxiety I'd had leading up to it. Who would've thought that spending an entire day cooped up with 10 very funny people would be a really good time?

I felt a couple of things that I think are important to highlight. The first of them being the first time I've ever honestly thought "I can do this. I can handle this, no problem," with regard to iO Intensive. I've puffed up my chest a lot and shouted a bunch of bluster into the wind, but this is an example of "fake it til you make it." At long last, I experienced a few flashes of genuine confidence that have been sorely missing in the lead-up to my trip to the improv monastery. Baby steps.

I also noticed a feeling that was a little gross and that I need to be pretty aware of and steer myself away from. I had a moment when I compared myself to the performers in the shows we saw and I thought, "They're not better than me cause they're in Chicago. We're probably in similar places as performers," which is a kind of shitty but not necessarily inaccurate thought. However, it led to a panic that people will assume I know nothing because I'm going to be a student. A fear that all the work I've put in over the years is going to be discounted and I'll be looked at like I'm less than the things I've aspired to be, and it made me angry.

That line of thinking is super dumb and I know it. There is no point to comparing myself to some strangers and bristling at the idea that they might somehow be thought of as "better" than me. Improv and Theatre are art and the qualities of what makes a performer "better" are incredibly subjective. Also, who cares if someone is legitimately better than me? I'm here to learn and improve, not demonstrate that I'm already a perfect and unstoppable force. If someone does things that I like, I will learn from them (read as: steal all their awesome qualities) and I'll be better for it. If someone assumes that I don't know anything and continues to believe that after seeing me work, maybe I should consider the idea that I don't know anything. 

Be kind, be thoughtful, and be humble. Those are the directives beneath everything I'm going to do here, I just have to continue repeating them.

A Pep Talk for Myself

As I get ready to head up to Chicago for over a month for the iO Summer Intensive, I've got a ton of things rattling around in my brain. It has not been a particularly easy month leading up to this big dumb adventure and I'm more than a little stressed about it. I'm being supported by everyone I know and that is for sure the driving force behind me going. It's always been a little bit of a pipe dream, but the moment I even mentioned making it real every single person was like "Yeah that's a good idea! You should do that!" Here I am, a victim of surrounding myself with wonderful, positive, encouraging friends.

I could sit here and list all of the reasons I'm nervous or afraid to go up there and finally commit to this escapade, but really none of those things matters too much. I've found solutions to basically all of my points of stress and I'm not feeling a lick better for it. I'm nervous because this is a big opportunity and I don't want to squander it.

I am going to ignore the thoughts that tell me I'm probably bad at what I love and just generally existing. I'm choosing to listen to my friends and family who believe in me 100% and have seen how I've grown in the past couple of years. I'm not perfect, but I promise to always show up and to always try as hard as I can. Stubbornly. Persistently. Until I make even an inch of measurable progress. I'll think and think and do and do and listen and listen. My goals of being kind, and generous, and thoughtful won't be put on hold because I'm uncomfortable or scared. I'm gonna get up there, meet some new and awesome people, and make some damn things up.

Pep talk for myself complete. I feel much better now. Whatever happens, I'll figure it out.

Improv Scenes Are Like Dates

I've been thinking about what makes a date enjoyable and I've noticed that a lot of the time, it lines up with what makes a good scene work. I know this is kind of a weird way to approach this, but just hear me out.

Scenes and dates are both better when there's chemistry between the people involved.

Chemistry is a thing that can be developed over time and it starts with effort. If you make an earnest effort to find something you like in your scene partner, chances are that you'll find it. Be patient and don't expect magic to always happen immediately, the relationship will develop if you keep at it. Eventually you'll find where you and your partner line up (easier in scenes than in life!).

Don't just talk, do something!

Talking heads scenes and dates where you just sit and chat can work out all right sometimes, but a lot of the time they are boring and fairly unrewarding. Instead of just sitting and talking, maybe try an activity. Hike, paint, cook, anything to keep you from just blathering on from one unimportant thing to the other. In a scene, it's more interesting to watch people do something physically than talk. On a date, it's more interesting to do something and it also takes the pressure off of everyone to be super clever at all times. Lord knows I'm guilty of talking head scenes and chatty dates, but the activity-based ones are always better.

Forget stuff, talk about how the other person makes you feel.

Now, I'm not telling you to just recite poetry and make googoo eyes at someone instead of sharing information about your life. I am, however, saying that you shouldn't get so carried away with your own cleverness that you forget to be a human with emotions. Most experienced improvisers can weave a joke or story out of any subject, but instead of doing that we should practice just letting some stuff land on us and having a real reaction to it. Tell your date that they look nice. Tell them if you like them. Tell your scene partner if you think they're a crazy person (tell this to your date too, I'm sure it'll work great).

Maybe just listen for a little while.

Talking is overrated, find something your date likes a bunch and just engage with that as much as you can. Hopefully they'll at least be interested enough in you that they'll ask you questions about yourself and sit back and listen too. Either way, go into both a scene and a date with the idea of hearing and caring about everything the other person has to say and it will almost certainly turn out for the better.

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There you have it, I've solved both improv and dating. Now if only I could put my theory to use in either context!

Goals as an Artist and a Human 2016

I got my wisdom teeth taken out this morning and being the stubborn kind of dude that I am, I feel 100% fine. That might just be the Percocet talking, though. If this post turns out to be just a big ol bowl of word salad, I'm choosing to blame it on the painkillers giving me confidence, but not ability.

Back in late January I wrote up some goals for the year but looking back I found that they're not really very quantifiable. Lots of "do better" and "try harder" and things of that nature. While it's nice to have that vague encouragement/scolding guiding me towards being better, results come from concrete goals.

Here is my #1 goal for the year: Don't run out of money and end up homeless.

That probably seems like a joke, but it's an actual thing that I am very afraid of. I've had too many times where a bunch of things exploded at once and my finances melted away. This year I will be cautious and I will pour money into my savings account to shake off my fears.

#2. Write and Film Three Sketches.

I've always wanted to write sketch and I know how to do it now. Let's say that vines count for 1/4 of a sketch. It's a low bar, but I've literally never written and filmed a sketch of my own before.

#3. Spend at least an hour every day off reading, writing, or learning a new skill.

I have a tendency to sit around and not take advantage of the time I have to myself. An hour on an off day is not a huge commitment to ask, but it is a big step in the right direction for me. I also know that productivity begets productivity, so I'm banking on that hour turning into more time pretty regularly.

Some ideas of skills that I'm working on: writing sketch, writing jokes, playing guitar, juggling, dialects, and celebrity impressions.

#4. End the year with 125 total posts on the blog. 

Made the goal I didn't succeed at last year harder. YOLO. Gotta commit harder to writing regularly!

#5. Spend 20 hours a week doing something related to the business of art. Teaching, improv, writing, performing, etc.

I am probably sitting at around 13 hours a week right now, but I need to expand or dive in deeper to something in order to eek those last 7-8 hours in.

#6. Do something nice for somebody every day without expecting to be repaid.

You get out what you put in and I want to make people feel happy when I'm around. I already kind of make it a point to be kind to people when I have the opportunity and ability, but I think it will be helpful if I look at it as a thing I'm setting out to do every single morning. At the very least, it'll keep me from starting the day off being salty to anybody.

#7. Read 15 books in 2016, watch 15 New Movies, watch 5 shows I haven't seen before.

Improv requires that my pop culture knowledge be up to date and living a full and happy life means that I need to be expanding my brain and finding new things to enjoy. Books and movies are most important to me as they are more often referenced than TV shows that I don't already watch, but all three categories are valuable. Video games should probably be included at the same level as TV shows.

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All right, these goals feel better. I'm stickin to them! Do you have any big ideas of things you want to do this year?

Why you owe it to yourself (and your cast) to be kind of a hard-ass

I have been getting caught in leadership positions for the majority of my adult life. I've learned a lot of things about myself through the groups I've been put in charge of. While I believe in kindness as a general basis for all human interactions, I've learned that leaders sometimes have to say and do the difficult and often hurtful things.

In improv it is really very difficult for me to give a note to a teammate. However I am finding myself in a leadership position far more often in improv scenarios lately and I need to grow up and move forward from my position of "I'm improv dumb and I don't know anything that isn't obvious." 

I was looked to as the most experienced performer and therefore the director of a recent improv show and I was too afraid to give notes because I didn't want to mar the positive and fun  atmosphere of the rehearsals. I had several very specific things that I noticed that I never brought up because I hoped we could work them out without communicating about them. I thought that maybe the other folks in the group could figure out the things that weren't working for themselves. I was super wrong and our show didn't magically fix itself.

They needed my help and I was co-signing all the bad habits I was witnessing by not calling them out. Every time someone started a scene with negativity and I didn't make them re-start, I messed up. Every time the words "I have a plan" showed up and I didn't yell "No you don't! You have a feeling!" I goofed. Every walk-on that was unnecessary that I didn't immediately send into exile was a gaffe by yours truly.

Improv should be fun and happy, but rehearsals are also a thing we do to help ourselves improve. Notes are something that help us have fun quicker and more effectively. Your notes shouldn't be mean or personal, but they do need to be direct and as immediate as possible. If something doesn't work, tell that performer and offer an idea of how to make it work. Be honest about the different skill levels in your group, even if that hurts someone's feelings. Help the people who aren't quite there yet if they're hard workers, and cut them loose if they aren't. Don't let being nice drag your shows down and take away from the fun that you could be having.