Thursday, October 11, 2018
In Which We Take a Short Break for Self-Promotion
We're ready for your library's 2019 Summer Reading Program! Defiant Monkey Improv is a fresh approach to entertainment for your patrons. Booking now - get your dates while they're still available!
Sunday, April 15, 2018
Fear Manifests Nothingness
I first have to make a confession: when I first said in a discussion with Karen, "Fear manifests nothingness," I had an inkling I was making words up, but they still seemed to say what I was trying to get across. That being said, the Cambridge Dictionary does, in fact, define nothingness as, "a state or place where nothing is present, or where nothing important is present" (emphasis mine).
Bridging, blocking, babbling, asking unproductive questions; these are all examples of ways we express our fear on stage. If we look at the issue with a critical eye, we can see that a large part of our fear is fear of change.
Fear of change creates resistance, and this resistance presents itself in the forms mentioned above, among others. When we give into our fear and resist change, we are unlikely to create anything of value in our scenes. Acceptance (that old familiar, "Yes, and..." attitude) manifests story, scenes, and characters that move everything forward in a productive and cooperative manner. Fear grinds things to a halt, manifesting nothingness.
An extreme example of fear of change involves an improviser being faced with their own character's imminent death on stage (we've all been in that position ourselves.) An actor who gives into their fear of change will do everything in their power to avoid that death, causing the scene to lose any power it might otherwise have had.
An improviser who gives into and accepts their character's death has a powerful effect on the story; will the audience be appalled, saddened, amused, or happy at the death of the character? If you've created a strong character and set a believable environment, you have the ability to pull the audience along with you and elicit whatever response you want. Don't let your fear take that power away from you.
Die, already.
Happy improvising!
Bridging, blocking, babbling, asking unproductive questions; these are all examples of ways we express our fear on stage. If we look at the issue with a critical eye, we can see that a large part of our fear is fear of change.
Fear of change creates resistance, and this resistance presents itself in the forms mentioned above, among others. When we give into our fear and resist change, we are unlikely to create anything of value in our scenes. Acceptance (that old familiar, "Yes, and..." attitude) manifests story, scenes, and characters that move everything forward in a productive and cooperative manner. Fear grinds things to a halt, manifesting nothingness.
An extreme example of fear of change involves an improviser being faced with their own character's imminent death on stage (we've all been in that position ourselves.) An actor who gives into their fear of change will do everything in their power to avoid that death, causing the scene to lose any power it might otherwise have had.
"Fear of change creates resistance"
An improviser who gives into and accepts their character's death has a powerful effect on the story; will the audience be appalled, saddened, amused, or happy at the death of the character? If you've created a strong character and set a believable environment, you have the ability to pull the audience along with you and elicit whatever response you want. Don't let your fear take that power away from you.
Die, already.
Happy improvising!
Sunday, April 1, 2018
Small Talk On a Big Stage
We do our best to see as many improv groups perform as possible. First, it's common courtesy to support your fellow artists, and second, it's important to observe others in the act of creating art so you can better critique and improve your own work.
As we watched, one common thread began to emerge among some of the groups: the practice of engaging in non-productive small talk in scenes.
We all need to be conservative with our time and energy on stage; we don't have the luxury of wasting time that might otherwise be going toward advancing or expanding our story. On too many occasions, however, we've witnessed actors engaging in conversations that neither added information nor pushed the story forward. They were chatting.
It must have seemed to them as if they were being productive; they were talking about stuff, but that stuff was trivial and unimportant. It wasn't building character or environment, it wasn't driving the plot, and it wasn't creating conflict. At times it seemed as if there was conflict, but in reality it was only argument.
Dialogue must be purposeful. Ask yourself this question: if I were watching a TV show or movie, or reading a book with dialogue like this, would it hold my interest? Would I watch or read it again? Would I recommend it to my friends? If the answer is "No," then pay closer attention to what is being said on stage.
Dialogue should:
One easy way to push yourself to use purposeful dialogue is to create a strong character. If the character is well defined, the dialogue should come naturally. Once you have set your environment, put you character in it with all your energy, and trust what the character has to say. Listen to yourself, and if you find yourself babbling, adjust.
Trust that you have something useful and important to say. If you don't, then cede the focus to someone who does, and retake the focus when you do have something purposeful to say. Silence is not a sin; it's a choice that is as purposeful as saying something out loud.
As we watched, one common thread began to emerge among some of the groups: the practice of engaging in non-productive small talk in scenes.
We all need to be conservative with our time and energy on stage; we don't have the luxury of wasting time that might otherwise be going toward advancing or expanding our story. On too many occasions, however, we've witnessed actors engaging in conversations that neither added information nor pushed the story forward. They were chatting.
"Pay closer attention
to what is
to what is
being said on stage"
It must have seemed to them as if they were being productive; they were talking about stuff, but that stuff was trivial and unimportant. It wasn't building character or environment, it wasn't driving the plot, and it wasn't creating conflict. At times it seemed as if there was conflict, but in reality it was only argument.
Dialogue must be purposeful. Ask yourself this question: if I were watching a TV show or movie, or reading a book with dialogue like this, would it hold my interest? Would I watch or read it again? Would I recommend it to my friends? If the answer is "No," then pay closer attention to what is being said on stage.
Dialogue should:
- Reveal character
- Create environment
- Drive the story (plot) forward
- Create/enhance conflict
One easy way to push yourself to use purposeful dialogue is to create a strong character. If the character is well defined, the dialogue should come naturally. Once you have set your environment, put you character in it with all your energy, and trust what the character has to say. Listen to yourself, and if you find yourself babbling, adjust.
Trust that you have something useful and important to say. If you don't, then cede the focus to someone who does, and retake the focus when you do have something purposeful to say. Silence is not a sin; it's a choice that is as purposeful as saying something out loud.
Happy improvising!
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