Yes, let's!

Artwork outside Museum of Fine Art, Boston.

This is how we'd kick off each improv class last winter, with a game called "Yes, let's!" (Saying 'yes' to something in a scene is one of the basic rules of improv, because a 'no' shuts it right down). Doing improv was probably some of the most fun I've ever had - I mean, ridiculous fun, laughter bubbling forth like a babbling brook kind of fun. The simple premise of Yes, Let's! is that someone in the group suggests we do something; "Let's act like we just ate a whole wheel of cheese and it's disagreeing with us!" to which everyone responds "Yes, let's!" and then we stumble around the room acting out our interpretation of what that would be like. Then someone makes another suggestion, say "Let's say we're martians who have just learned to dance the watusi!" "Yes, let's!" If in the first class this doesn't help you shed a few inhibitions, not much will. Stumbling about like a drunkard, rolling on the floor, scratching like a chimp - these are what I call ice breakers.

Improv is about a lot of things. It's about spontaneity, but it's also about making your partner look good. It's about listening as much as it is about speaking up. It's not about being funny, but often it ends up being very fun indeed. One thing I struggled with the most was trusting myself enough to jump in a scene when it was running out of juice. If your friends are up their floundering, you've got to support them by jumping in. Say anything, but don't stay on the sidelines! I would literally rock in my chair - jump in, but what are you gonna say? jump in!!" I also had the nasty habit of apologizing if I felt I'd screwed up (but I knew going in that was going to be one of my demons, so no surprise there).

Building a scene, a character, a rapport, trusting your instinct, a willingness to experiment and make mistakes, the joy of feeling a scene take off - all this to me is very creative. It's ongoing and joyful and telling. There's an expression I like in yoga, that you "meet yourself on the mat." To me, this means you encounter your way of thinking - your self-judgements, your competitive streak, when you feel inadequate or crave a little stroking. It's revealing and the same goes with improv. You learn a helluva lot about yourself up there - not all comfortable realizations, either - and you witness change, too. It's fascinating and risky and open-ended and can be hard, just like life, but you're forced to jump in, one way or t'other. It kicks your ass, but sometimes that ain't all bad.