Our beloved Chelsea, being an 'only dog', taught me to play. No
language was needed. She would just put her front paws and her nose
down, lift up her rear, and wag her tail, and that told us it was play
time. The preferred game was 'chase the dog', wherein I would chase her
all over the yard (or the house, including up and down stairs) until I
was exhausted, at which point she would stop and wait for me to catch
my breath. When I caught her, roughhousing ensued, including gentle
play-biting and fierce tummy-rubbing, followed by more chasing.
Occasionally I was allowed to be the pursued, and she would chase me,
but only for a few seconds. She always initiated this play, and she
taught me to get pretty good at it. Many variations were introduced
over the years, usually by her. Frisbees were often involved.
Improvisation has been defined as "unrehearsed, synergetic social
activity". To me, it could equally be defined as "minimally structured
play". It involves simultaneously (or iteratively) and spontaneously
teaching and learning, collaboratively, with others. It's demanding
work, and, if done properly, great fun. It is how most of us
(could) learn best, ahead of reading or listening or even being shown.
It includes conversation, group stand-up ("who's line is it anyway"), jazz improv
, dancing, cooperative games (frisbee again),
flirtation, play (with those who have not forgotten how), and perhaps even sex. There are no 'rules', although some standards
may emerge over time by mutual agreement, but there are competencies, tactics and attributes to good improv.
The competencies include: active listening, paying full
attention, inventing, self-expression, reacting quickly, remembering,
teaching/helping quickly, learning quickly, letting go and letting
come. There is a zen-like state that you can get into if you have, and
practice using, these competencies: It's a combination of extreme
alertness and extreme relaxation. That's only a paradox to the incompetent. Arguably, it is our natural state.
The tactics include building and drawing on others' actions ("yes, and..." rather than "yes, but..."), exploring, reflecting, complementing, mimicking, and what someone has called "moving with and moving against".
The attributes include intimacy, engagement, true 'whole is more than the sum of the parts' collaboration, and reciprocation.
The paradox of practicing improv is that, if done well,
it can make you so good that you're restless improvising with others
who aren't, yet, if done badly, it can make you worse, entrench habits
that are hard to unlearn, and make improv so tedious that you give up
on it entirely, so you get no practice at all. As a horrifically bad
dancer who still loves to dance, I can attest to this personally. As
the Phil Collins song goes: "I can't dance, I can't talk, only thing
about me is the way I walk" -- the confession of an incompetent
improviser.
Some people think improvisational ability is instinctive, an
inherent talent -- you either have it or you never will. While good
instincts are probably helpful, I don't think they're essential, and
most improvisational actions are not instinctive -- they are quickly but consciously thought, or perhaps more accurately felt.
It is not anticipatory either -- if you second-guess what the others in
your improv group are going to do you will no longer be paying full
attention, you'll be caught if you guess wrong, and you risk becoming a
boring (predictable or competitive) improviser.
I'm far from an expert at improv, but I'm starting to learn,
slowly, what works. I think it's mostly about getting yourself into the
right space, and learning the above-mentioned competencies, and not
trying too hard. Practice helps, but this is a natural process, and
it's not as important as being ready.
The most important part of getting yourself into the right space
is self-awareness, self-confidence, self-comfort. Over the years I've
delivered speeches and presentations (not an improvisational
process, but hear me out) that have varied from word-perfect to full of
hesitancies and blank-outs. Lately I've learned to pay attention to my
state of mind (enthused, animated, and
playful, versus full of dread, uninspired, and
discouraged) and my state of body (relaxed, healthy, comfortable versus
tense, pained, stressed). Those pre-existing states are expressed in,
and determine, the quality of my presentations, far more than how well I know or have rehearsed the
material. I'm sure the same is true of improv: being ready (i.e. in the
right state) is more important than being practiced. Though to the
casual observer, the improviser who's in the right state looks to be doing it instinctively, and looks to be practiced.
My granddaughter does improvisational art. We work with a
large (18" x 24") whiteboard and those dry-erase coloured markers. We
just start drawing, anywhere, together. She responds to what, and how,
and when, I draw, and the result is often remarkable, a collaborative work. Just like
Chelsea, she teaches me to be better at improvisation.
Now you know all I know about this important subject. Tell me more. Yes, and...?
MADE IN CANADA
trust your
instincts 
