The podcast world in 2016, however, was impressive. A lot of great content, a lot of new and interesting shows, and a lot more made by people who are not straight white men. Many address the shifting political tone in the country, many offer an escape from it. At some point, I started compiling this list. 

Here it is! my top 10 podcast episodes of 2016:

1. Another Round #35: Kwanzaa Spectacular Live (video). This may be the singularly greatest thing that happened on a stage in 2016. It actually happened in Dec 2015, but I listened to it in 2016, so I am counting it. Another Round is the perfect mix of friendship, silliness, me laughing out loud listening, realtalk about feminism/mental health/selfcare, beautiful quotes and amazing guests (Hillary Clinton, Ta-Nehisi Coates, Lin Manuel Miranda, David Simon, Lena Dunham,...). Impossible to pick one episode, so I picked this–the live Kwanzaa special. It's just perfect. (thanks Anna C. Reilly for introducing me to this!)
    
2. Allusionist #12: Pride. Originally aired in 2015, this episode was re-broadcast in 2016 with some additional commentary in the wake of the Orlando shootings. One of my hands-down favorite podcasts of the last few years, Allusionist features Helen Zaltzman digging deep on interesting questions of language–in this case "pride," and where its origins in the LGBTQ community. It's an interesting history of activism and evolution. 
    
3. Imaginary Worlds #54: Dumbledore's Army. Imaginary World's is the newest podcast (to me) on the list, and I am loving it. Eric Molinsky interviews authors about sci-fi and fantasy, world building and the power therein. In this episode, he concludes a Harry Potter series exploring how J.K. Rowling's background at Amnesty International inspired novels that (according to the professor on the show), can make people more tolerant of diversity. Eric also interviews folks involved in the Harry Potter Alliance, a non-profit coordinated online of HP fans who do good in the real world. It's an inspiring episode.
    
4. Code Switch #15: What's So Funny About The Indian Accent? It was hard to pick one episode of Code Switch, NPR's new podcast about race and identity. In addition to the fascinating topics, I am learning a lot about how to have explicit conversations about race. Covering everything from black officer reactions to the Dallas shootings to trigger warnings to mispronouncing names. I chose this episode because it speaks to a conversation we have often in the comedy community.
    
5. Planet Money #576: When Women Stopped Coding. Planet Money began when everyone realized we don't know anything about our financial system, but continues to produce some interesting shows about the intersection of economics and daily life. Like this episode about how there used to be as many women as men in computer science, and then all the sudden in 1984 the numbers dropped and continued dropping. Hear why, and get really mad.
    
6. Invisibilia: The New Norm. After a long hiatus, Invisibilia (the podcast about the invisible forces that control human behavior–ideas, beliefs, emotions) is back and with an amazing 2nd season. I was really affected by the story of applied theater, but overall the episode got me reflecting. And really, the whole season (a mere 6 episodes) is great!
    
7. 99% Invisible: Ten Letters for the President. 99% invisible looks into the little elements of design that make up our world, and this episode talks to the mostly volunteer office in Obama's White House responsible for reading all his mail and selecting 10 letters per day for him to read that represent the feelings of the electorate at that moment. I cried.
    
8. Freakonomics: Has the U.S. Presidency Become a Dictatorship? I am not a Freakonomics bro (at least I don't think so). I haven't read the books, and I find Stephen Dubner to be a bit annoying. Yet, I still find the podcast pretty interesting. This episode is a real rollercoaster. First, we learn about how the President really has a lot of actual power, and that the legislative and judicial branch no longer effectively check it. So who does? The county, the party, and the administrivia of the executive branch. It's an important and complex look at modern politics. If you want a good companion episode on the evolution of the Supreme Court's power, check out this other episode of More Perfect.
    
9. More Perfect: Object Anyway. Speaking of More Perfect, this podcast spun off this year from Radiolab and focuses on the Supreme Court. Each episode is fascinating and important, like this case that was intended to prevent race-based jury selection but in practice has made the problem much worse.
    
10. Reply All #74: Making Friends. Reply All is a show about the Internet–it explains Internet things to me, but also tells really interesting stories about people that the Internet enables. While tempted to pick their coverage of Pizzagate or Pepe, I went with this story about a young woman who hears a voice in her head, and finds an online community of people who create more voices and foster relationships with them. (thanks Karen Schiller for introducing me to this!)

Honorable mentions:

• 2 Dope Queens. YQY! I love this show, it's generally the only stand-up podcast I listen to. I just didn't have a landmark episode ready.
• This American Life #589: Tell Me I'm Fat. I always listen to TAL when it comes out, and I thought the middle of the year had some particularly great topics, including this episode about shifting perceptions of fatness.
• Welcome to Night Vale. I'm still (very) slowly working through all of these from the beginning, and they continue to delight me. 
• Savage Lovecast. Dan is less of a cornerstone of my listening than in the past, but this show still has a place in my heart (and my ears).
• As this is my improv blog, I'll note that I do listen to comedy performer podcasts, as well as acting podcasts, tabletopping/RPG podcasts, and other niche shows. I was surprised as you that none of them made this list. I'd love to talk to you about them if you'd like to compare notes!

Happy listening!

I am in Baltimore this weekend for the Baltimore Improv Festival. I'm super excited for this festival as I've heard great things. I've already seen some amazing shows, and I get to spend today with Irony City and Change Machine (some of my closest friends and most inspirational improvisers). But it means I missed the Pittsburgh Say Day festivities.

So I am carrying on my now 2 year tradition of posting some appreciations here. This has been a transformative year for me. I am beginning the journey of purposefully focusing more of my time and attention on things that matter most me (vs. things I feel obligated to do) and figuring out how to pay more attention to my mental and physical health every day.

I would love to call out every single person that has been important on this journey, but there are just too many! If I don't explicitly list anyone, it doesn't mean I don't value them. I do! I just don't want the inclusion/exclusion problem to prevent me from publicly thanking a few people here:

Nicole Havranek: You are my love, my support, my encouragement. I included you specifically here because of the impact you have had on my improv (and various other artistic pursuits). Your work is inspiring to me, and our conversations have helped me to better sort out what I want out of my own work.

Greg Gillotti: Getting to play even more with Iguanatron and teach with you again was pure fun for me. While we both enjoy similar things, you are always pushing me and surprising me, and I will always want to work more with you, as evidenced by our overwhelming slate of projects together.

Aaron Tarnow, Anna C. Reilly, and Nick Stamatakis: I don't say enough (ever?) how grateful I am for all you do and the care and attention you give to PCF. I am really proud of the festival, what we've been able to create, and I am so thankful that the three of you have taken the lead this year. I know I am a pain in the ass a lot of the time, but you still make this happen and I am so thankful for that.

Change Machine: Thank you so much for dedicating your time, energy and hard work to Change Machine these past 2.5 years. I am so proud of this team (for example).

Chris Leon: You are one of the kindest, most genuine people I know. I am inspired by your attitude, approach to life, and choice in clothing. It means a lot to have you involved in so many of my projects. 

Kristy Nolen and Mike Rubino: Since last Say Day, we've launched Beta Stage (maybe just before Say Day) and Pop-Up Night (and we've talked through a ton of other details here and there). I am so grateful for your support and continued encouragement of the projects we do together.

Mary Parker: You have had a big impact on me and my understanding of how I perform and teach improv this year. Not to mention your contributions to the community committee at PCF. You are always genuinely interested in connecting with people, whether it's on projects you're a part of or in social settings, and I really appreciate that.

Tessa Karel: You continue to show me what it looks like to lead a responsible and fulfilling adult life, and it's meant a lot that you allowed me the opportunity to use my improv experience and skills to do something more meaningful.

Woody Drennan: You just want people you work with to succeed. You are always eager to talk discuss (sometimes at length) an issue Writers Room is having, lend equipment (even if it's just something I'm doing for work), or help out however you can. 

Thank you all–and all I could not include explicitly–for making Pittsburgh a great place to live and do comedy!

Early on, we avoiding conflict and focus on agreement. That's because greener improvisers tend to fight for no reason, so as instructors and coaches we push toward like-minded characters early on.

But when I go to see a movie or play, I want to see characters grow and change? I want to see them go throw moments of struggle and see what they are really made of. During Kevin McDonald's recent sketch workshop, he pointed out that for him there is a difference between comedies with lots of gags like Anchorman (he found it funny but it didn't stick with him) and Airplane (also funny but lasts, he cared more, and is also based on the 1957 drama Zero Hour!).

My solution: rather than talk about avoiding or leaning into conflict, how about we talk about two different kinds of conflict?

Manufactured Conflict

"Conflict is about as necessary as the Mad Scientist's daughter in a science fiction film." - Truth in Comedy, Del Close and Charna Hailpern

This amazing quote refers to what I would call Manufactured Conflict or Improviser Conflict. It is two improvisers arguing, either over the facts of the scene that are not yet totally clear, or just for no good reason. And it comes from a place of fear.

We fear that nothing interesting is happening in the scene, so we manufacture a more "interesting" scene by disagreeing with people. Here are some common patterns that lead to Manufactured Conflict: 

1. This sucks: Borrowing Susan Messing's language, this is when one player dislikes his or his partner's choices.
   "Ugh a Florida vacation, I'll turn into a lobster!"
2. Missing essentials: For no good reason, we are missing something we need (in order to get to the actual scene).
   Say we are robbing a bank. Virginia asks Opal, "You got the guns?" Opal replies, "Oh I thought you were bringing the guns..." and we see two minutes about who was supposed to bring guns. 
3. Picking Fights: For no good reason, a character picks a fight with another character.
   "That is not how you [whatever object work the other player is doing]"
   "Ok kids get in the car." "I don't wanna get in the car."

If the audience isn't waiting with bated breath to see how the conflict resolves, it is probably manufactured conflict.

Dramatic Conflict

"Conflict is drama, and how people deal with conflict shows you the kind of people they are." - Stephen Moyer, actor

I was frustrated with avoiding conflict because as this quote indicates I felt that moments of conflict were when you saw the truth in people, and I wanted to create those moments for characters on stage. I started using the term "Dramatic Conflict" from Ken Adams' How to Improvise a Full-Length Play to refer to this other type of conflict. The key difference is that in this type, the actors' objectives are what is in conflict and the audience can see those objectives from the work on stage. 

Here is the high-level picture (mostly from Adams with my notes and commentary):

• Two players begin discovering circumstances (he calls this the platform).
  Virginia sits at a chair miming a desk, papers, etc. Tom pops his head in the door:
  Tom: I'm going to head out early to catch the end of my son's soccer game.
  Virginia: I'm glad you're here, Tom. These numbers just aren't adding up.
  She motions to the chair in front of her.
• We have hit what Adams calls the Moment of Engagement as Virginia's objective has impacted (in this case obstructed) Tom's. This puts us into Dramatic Conflict.
• During much of the scene, the characters will struggle to achieve their objectives.
  Perhaps Tom replies, "You haven't finished the IRS audit!"
  Perhaps Virginia orders dinner.
  Perhaps Tom brings out photos of his son.
• This is still different from the improvisors attempting to achieve their objectives, which is often the case in Manufactured Conflict. This might entail an improviser introducing information that hurts her character but helps tell the story of the scene (like in the IRS line above). The players are still agreeing and collaborating to tell the story of the conflict and the audience is watching the struggle, the loss, the journey those characters take.

Now just because both characters have an objective doesn't mean they have to be at odds with one another. There are more types of conflict, and more ways beyond conflict to put characters through a struggle. This is not a prescription, just a useful idea for advanced improvisers and perhaps a way to worry less when you feel you are in a good scene that has "conflict!"

2: The only one who can teach you is you

In my experience, my real breakthroughs have come when I am on stage feeling for the first time what it is to improvise a certain way. I have had some really great discussions with experienced players, I've had some great and inspirational teachers, and I've read some amazing books. But for me, I really learn when I have digested that, actually changed my work in some way or another (started walking the walk), and start feeling the impact on my scenes. Sometimes (often?) I will feel like I really get something logically from reading it or discussing it, and it's only years later when I make a move on stage that the gears click into place and I realize that I am just now truly understanding it.

So that mindset raises the question: how can we as coaches encourage others to grow? 

Well, it shifts the focus from my opinion of a team's work being important to their opinion of their own work being important. Opinions are like assholes (everyone has one), especially about something like how an improv set went. Whereas traditional scene-by-scene notes might give a team an impression of the former, I will now lean toward asking a team about their opinions of a set. The hope is that over time they will develop a sense of what inspires them and how to create the necessary environment for their own fun more consistently. The show felt great? Why? What felt great? What were you doing that led you to that feeling? What could you do again to more consistently replicate that great feeling? Another show felt shitty? Why was that? What choices do you make that lead you to feeling one way or another?

A few caveats here: I do still note technical misunderstandings (e.g. when to use a tag versus a sweep), form issues (e.g. how is the opening intended to go), and individual find blindspots. In these cases I follow the advice in Directing Improv as much as possible (too much good stuff to reproduce here). Most of my notes I keep for myself. These help me build a rehearsal (or many) with the goal of training the instincts of the performers over time.

Does this work? TBD. I find that I have been much more successful at getting teams to make lasting changes. I also get feedback that some (many) players struggle to grow when their only feedback is self-reflection. 

Improv revelations have been more evolutionary than revolutionary, but if anything at a faster pace. This post is attempting to describe my latest thoughts about coaching improv based on some recent reflections.**

Coaching IMO comprises three main activities:

• Helping a team define or refine their style and goals
• Designing and compiling exercises (possibly forms) to push the team closer to those goals
• Giving notes and challenges

The trouble with notes

The challenge of notes is the limitation one coach's power. Yes I can give a team notes. But how many improvisers write them down, review them before rehearsal or a show, let them sink in and change the way they play? And if they change that improvisor's behavior for one rehearsal or one show, will the next change build on the last? Or get thrown out the window when she changes something else?

I was the improviser who wrote a lot down. And it just got me in my head. I was playing from a place of obligation. I was trying to dance around a litany of notes rather than playing from a place of inspiration. I was owned by my head and not my gut. I still play that way some times, in some situations. But I have tasted and seek the freedom of playing from inspiration. And it has encouraged me to think differently about coaching others. 

So what would replace notes?

If notes put me into a place of obligation, then what is a reasonable alternative?

1: Train your instincts

First, I had to shift my point of view. Let's think of practice as a place to train instinct and performance as a place where performers trust and run on instinct. Rehearsal is swinging two bats, and the show is all muscle memory. I don't believe there is any value to thinking about anything a teacher or coach has said while you are on stage. On stage, shorten the distance from head to mouth (or foot or jumping hug). On stage, every move is the correct move. That is not lip service. That is truth.

This is a hard concept for me to explain to new groups (or old groups!). Because you may still make a move that we (you and I, us as a team) will talk about afterwards. Or that you will think about and wish you had done differently. That does not imply you should have done it differently in the moment. You followed your gut and that is always correct. In the long run, those conversations and reflections ideally help to re-calibrate your instinct. 

The one thing we can't recalibrate is moves you don't make. Sometimes I will have players who will say something like, "Yeah I really wanted to... (edit there/make this move/enter as your grandma)." Those are moments where they either didn't trust their instinct or thought of a better idea later. Hard to do much about either. If you can make it through a 20 minute set trusting all of your instincts, you will not only be a better improvisor, but I think you will feel you have already reaped dividends from your time and monetary investment in improv.

More on this next week. This post is already long.

**Two caveats: 1) Coaching takes many forms. If I am coaching a practice team of new students or subbing someone else's team, this may look different. 2) I am not prescribing this as the way anyone else should coach or saying I'm the best coach. I've gotten both positive feedback and constructive criticism on this style of coaching. This is just offered as my thoughts on my coaching.

Pittsburgh City Council declared this week Comedy Week in celebration of Pittsburgh's growing and kick-ass comedy scene!

It's also the week of the 2nd annual Pittsburgh Comedy Festival. So head on down to Pitt's campus to check out:

• Bombardo, with the wry Aubrey Plaza, teachers and performers from UCB in NYC and LA, and comedy that has been termed "weird,” “psychadelic,” and “full of cats."
• Todd Glass: I have so much respect for a comic who takes his comedy seriously. You know him from Louie, Mr. Show and his podcast The Todd Glass Show.
• Over 30 acts from all over the country. I can't pick a few to talk about because I am seriously excited about all of them.
• Kids Comedy Cabaret: I am so proud that PCF could help enable such a truly imaginative show.
• Six workshops featuring everything from sketch from the co-founder of the "feminist Onion" to Shakespearean improv to viewpoints! 
• Talking Funny: The PCF Comedy Panel where you can ask Qs and hear As about comedy as an artform as a career from Todd Glass (Comedy Central, Louie), Chlesea Clarke (UCB NY Instructor, Bombardo), Marcy Jarreau (UCB LA Instructor), Jared Pascoe (Docherty Talent Agent) and Aaron Kleiber (Gotham Comedy Live, Pgh Mag Best Comic).
• Parties, free food, happy hour, winding through the Cathedral loading dock. Does this all sound fun to you? Sign up to volunteer!

Let's revisit our example and try to stumble in the same direction:

Janet: My cousin Ralph is sick.
Frank: Yes, and I will take his shift.
Janet: Yes, and we could never forgive ourselves if you died tonight.
Frank: Yes, and Ralph's illness is his fault, but I'm to blame for swearing to protect you.
Janet: Yes, and what a foolish oath given what's out there [she looks].

Now we're getting somewhere! Here is a scene where I don't feel like it is work from line to line (again, hard to tell on paper but work with me). Five lines in and we feel like we get what sort of scene this is, what could be fun about it, what sort of role Frank and Janet have to play.

So what is different?

• Contrast the scene in part one:
  • Most of this scenelet is "about" Ralph on the surface, but rather than re-iterating the "Ralph is sick" information each line adds new information. For example, Frank's first line tells us that Frank and Ralph work/have shifts together and Ralph's sickness seems an imposition to Frank. That's a ton of information from 5 words (and their delivery) compared to the no real info we got from "he is vomiting on my shoe."
  • That information makes it less about Ralph at all, and more about Frank, Janet and their situation. While there is no heavy exposition, we get a real sense for who all 3 of these characters are and what this universe is we are creating from these 5 information-packed lines.
• Contrast the scene in part two:
  • Both players are digging the same hole, though notice that it takes form and shape as the lines progress. This is good. This is collaborative scenework.
  • The first line is about poor cousin Ralph. By the second line we see Ralph's impact. By the third we see the impact is truly Frank's sacrifice. And so forth.

I cheated a bit here by skipping what could be a 3rd step. The information I am adding in this 3rd scene is also some emotionally charged information. That is what I call the information that matters. The information that matters to the two human beings in the scene. The reason I skipped it is that I believe the first two tend to lead to the third. Especially when we get to this part:

HOW DO WE DO IT?

At first, this seems like a lot of new rules to replace or (WORSE) pile onto existing rules. I urge you not to do that. From my POV, you don't need rules. I am breaking this all down so you see why it works not how to do it. 

The long answer: I believe that many improvisers upon hearing a line will make a lot of assumptions. For some it is visual, for some it is more logical, but they get made. Take for example, "My cousin Ralph is sick." When you hear that, what pops into your head? Where are we? Is Ralph in the room? Is Janet upset about this news? Glad? Take all those assumptions that are already in your head, and make your next line packed with some information from them.

When I was writing this example, in my mind the sickness had dire consequences. Maybe for you, Ralph is skipping school or we're all dogs or something. 

To sum up: yes add information. No you don't need to invent it. Just say what's already in your head. I know this is not as easy as I make it sound.

The shorter answer: YETI. YETI will focus you on emotional content, on relationship truths, and on adding information right at the top of your scenes. 

It is better to take many small steps in the right direction than to make a great leap forward only to stumble backward. -Buddhist proverb

Let's revisit our example and try to add information in every line:

Janet: My cousin Ralph is sick.
Frank: Yes, and he is vomiting on my brand new shoe.
Janet: Yes, and those are expensive looking loafers.
Frank: Yes, and can you believe they were hand-me-downs from my grandpap!
Janet: Yes, and they just don't make shoes like they used to...

In this revised scene, we do a bit better job of adding new information in each scene. Instead of finding different ways to say "Ralph is sick," we are saying new things. 

BUT IT STILL SUCKS!

Why doesn't that feel much better? Chris Trew at The New Movement used this metaphor: think of the top of a scene as a wide open beach full of infinite possibilities. Each bit of information added is one of the players digging into the beach. Sometimes we make many small shallow holes all around an idea. Or sometimes we dig deeper into one hole.

This scene again follows the "Yes And" rules and even my guidance to add information in every line. Only now that information is making many shallow holes. Let's count the holes!

1. Poor sick cousin Ralph
2. Poor ruined Janet's shoe (Frank contributes to this hole)
3. Frank's grandpap
4. The good ole days

You: Ok I see your point. But in the last example, the lines were all about the same thing and that was a problem!
Me: Yes, now you're getting it!

We want to be adding information, but adding information that all points in the same direction. If this sounds hard, it's only because you've been improvising so long and you are used to (perhaps even good at) inventing things. We get in our own way.

The ideal place is allowing yourself to stumble. No need to think your way from one line to the next. To hold these "rules" or "guidelines" in your head. You just stumble forward line to line, listening intently to your scene partner with your eyes on the same prize. More on the how next week.

Early on in our improv careers we are taught "Yes And." Often this is taught as saying the literal word "Yes" followed by the word "and." At least this is how I learned it, and taught it myself in Level 1 classes.

This may be a necessary introduction, but it is not sufficient for our improv to become easy (i.e. stop feeling like work). To get the momentum of a scene building, we need more than "yes and." Allow me demonstrate:

Janet: My cousin Ralph is sick.
Frank: Yes, and he is vomiting on my shoe.
Janet: Yes, and his face looks awful green.
Frank: Yes, and we should get him to a hospital.
Janet: Yes, and they will have doctors who can cure him!

This scene is a reasonable "Yes And" example IMO. And if played with interesting and believable characters, it could be fun to watch. I still think it feels like work. With every line, each player is inventing new facts about Ralph.

My thesis: those 5 lines are really just adding one piece of information.

The distinction I am making is between "details" and juicy, bite-your-teeth-into-it bits that I call 'information."

So while Janet and Frank are adding a lot of details–e.g.

1. The cousin is vomiting
2. Frank is wearing a shoe
3. The cousin's face looks green
4. The cousin is so bad off to as require a hospital 
5. Hospitals have doctors
6. Doctors cure sick patients

I would argue all of these are really ONE piece of information: Janet's cousin is sick. It's the bit we started with. Details #5 and #6 aren't really specific to this scene. If anything #2 is a new bit of information, but is likely just added to support #1, a reformulation of "the cousin is sick."

Improvisers, even vets, will often tread water like this. Usually we are just filling silence and it's easy to repeat what's been said, sometimes we are being polite or waiting for something "interesting to happen," and on rare occasion we do this purposefully to allow time for our partner to get their premise on the table. 

I'm here to address the former. What does it feel like when we add information in every line? And how, practically, do we approach the work such that it's easy to do (that's my whole point after all!)? Well I ended with more questions, but it was just too much for one post. 

As this series builds, I will reshape that scene so information is added each line. In the mean time, watch this opening scene of Cakcowski & Talarico's performance at the 2014 Pittsburgh Comedy Festival. Watch it line by line. There are a few lines that repeat info (particularly when playing to the rhythm of the scene) but Craig and Rich freely add information on most lines. It makes it feel like we are watching a scene in progress. It brings laughs more often from the crowd and it quickly builds a solid foundation for them to explore. Enjoy!

My father died when I was 18. We were (and are) a loving family, but I still vowed to make sure those I love knew how much they meant to me during my life. I'm on vacation this week and missing the celebrations in Pittsburgh. So while I believe the idea is to say these words in person, I am acknowledging some people here instead.

There is not enough Internet to acknowledge everyone who has had an impact on my improv life. Even if you are not specifically called out here, if you are reading this, you are definitely an important person to me, so thank you!

Greg Gillotti: You are a constant source of inspiration to me. You are so dedicated to teaching and performing improv for all the right reasons, and you are pure joy on stage. I count myself continually lucky that you choose to play with me in so many groups and for so many years. I wish we had more time to sit and talk, so I could learn more about everything you do.

Nilesh Shah: You were the first person to tell me that the amount of effort I put into running a team was unusual and appreciated, and I needed to hear that. I am always thankful when you are on stage with me because you play in a way I am incapable of. 

Irony City casts past and present (Ben, Amy, Anna, Jocelyn, Adam, Scott and Scott): You are the reason I am here, my friends and extended family during my twenties. You showed me that improv could be more than yuck-em-ups, that we could have fun and create something fantastic on stage, and you gave me a lot of sandbox to play in. And now that we have evolved to a much more collaborative team, you are the team I feel most at home with on stage. 

Justin Zell and Kasey Daley: You catalyzed the growth of the Pittsburgh improv community, gave me my first classroom with students who came back week after week, cast the first Pittsburgh house teams, and encouraged drinks at Park House. For this, I will always thank you.

Ayne Terceria: There are many projects I see and wish I had thought of or want to do myself–Uncumber shows are so beyond anything I could do myself that I just admire and enjoy them. You have an incredible and creative mind, and I am honored to call you my friend. And I love the rare occasions we have to improvise together: you are fearless and push me to play on the cliff's edge. 

Tessa Karel: When I grow up, I want to be Tessa Karel. A lot of my admiration for you is non-improv and I'll suffice to say you have a kind heart. On stage, you so consistently find your fun in a way that seems so true to your personality rather than folding to anyone else's ideal. That is, at its core, all I strive to do.

Asaf Ronen: You epitomize for me the kindness and humility of improv celebrities. From the few hours you spent with me on the phone helping after reading your book to feedback you gave me on my workshop one sheet over coffee, you have been so generous to someone who at the time was just a stranger. I am thankful to consider you a friend and mentor.

Woody Drennan: You have a strong sense of what good improv means to you and how to teach it, and long conversations with you have contributed to a complete transformation in my coaching and teaching style compared to a couple years ago. You ask me to be in projects without caveat, and I admire your self-confidence and your no bullshit attitude.

Arcade Founders (Jethro, Kristy, Mike, Abby, Randy): You are juggling the needs of a business and a community, and in doing so guided by good hearts and a desire to make the comedy community in Pittsburgh a better and more fruitful place for artists. I am honored to have my face on your wall and a place at your theater.

The Pittsburgh improv community: Ah, like any community you have been a source of joy and pain. But both are important ingredients to a life well lived. You have provided me some of my dearest friends, my fondest memories, support for my most ambitious projects, and the teams that have shaped my passion for an art for which I care quite deeply.

Looking forward to the next 10 years! 

Well it has now been 1.5 years, and Change Machine is still going strong. Recently, I boiled down all of my garbled ideas into (what I hope is) a clear description of the form that we now put up. I called this the Change Machine Manifesto. I did this because a) the team was still struggling to make sense of what I wanted at times and b) I thought it would be useful for me to try to sum it up simply.

Reproduced here for simplicity, because it is a form that nicely embodies how I like to do improv, and in case anyone is interested:

The Change Machine form is about possibilities to expand our world. 

We prefer teeing up these possibilities and discovering their outcomes together over following a developing plot/premise. 
 
Together, we build one coherent universe:

• We follow an essential thread from the previous scene rather than sweep it away to start over 
• We prefer the edit with the most possibilities to the one that points to a specific premise 
• We prefer more players on stage to allow for more possible edits  

 We build from from an initial moment: 

• We begin using only what information is in our scene partner's eyes 
• We build scenic momentum by adding information with every line 
• Above all else, we improvise playfully at all stages of the form

I don't necessarily disagree with any of these, but I would like to propose a different way of thinking about the problem.

Rather than think of the edit, let's think of the scene.

This way of thinking pre-supposes that after a certain point (that is usually a couple of minutes in) our scenes are going to fall flat. And before we get there, we should edit. I think that's a pretty negative way of thinking. And what does that thinking have to say about masters like TJ & Dave or Cackowski & Talarico. What would their shows look like if they were to edit at the first sign of a possible "traditional" edit opportunity?

I believe that following the "never too soon" thinking leads to short-sighted improv. The improv itself actually starts to build to a big laugh line with no expectation of getting past it, with living in those consequences. I prefer that we think of ourselves as capable of improvising each scene for the length of the show if necessary. We focus on repeatably creating meaty scenes and editing not to "save" the scene from potential future ruin but just because it is time for the story to move on (or whatever however your form prefers its edits).

This model trust scenes and players to survive past that first big laugh. And in doing so trains them to deal with the consequences of their moves.

When I first present this idea to groups, we often play 5 or 10 minute scenes, then go back and talk about the first moment that their Harold edit instincts kick in. It is often within 30 seconds to 2 minutes. Yet more often than not, the scene work that plays 3, 4, 5 minutes out is beautiful and unexpected territory, and we are thankful to have seen it. When we go in strapping in for a long ride, a number of things happen:

• We more often push past the part of the scene that we've "figured out" in our head and begin stumbling again–listening to our scene partner and playing on the edge of failure
• Small specific choices early on and even mistakes get magnified into show-affecting themes
• Solid meaty scenes tend to get solider and meatier. Fledgling scenes tend to get more fledgling*
• We heighten past the point we used to think was the top and again find amazing subconscious places to go (thanks to Chris Trew for first introducing this idea to me).

* Another key point: this is a place to retain your Harold edit instinct. When a scene did not start well, I would go back to: you can't edit it too early. This is less a note about editing and more a note to improve our ability as a team to make sure we get into that easy, less work, scene's building momentum place quickly. This will of course never be 100%.

There's no easy answer. I have been teaching a workshop for a while now about how to start scenes (or really shows) in a way that I feel most reliably leads to this sort of work and, in my experience, has a big rate of success leading to rich, meaty scenes. This was developed out of how Change Machine has been starting scenes for 1+ years, and how I would later get my guests to start on Gray Matter. This is how I have the most fun on stage and feel like I am not doing a ton of work. This is not true of everyone, and if your fun is elsewhere I take no offense if this is not a good system for you. A few people have asked me for notes or a description of YETI, so I thought I would put it up here.

So here is an overview of YETI or Everything You Need is In Your Partner's Eyes.

The acronym walks through the first moments of a scene:

• Yourself
• Eyes
• Tension
• [Discover]
• Information

Let's walk through each of those in turn. Note this process begins with the lights down, before the show properly begins:

Yourself

To begin, both (or any number of) players make a small, physical, human choice. Some players when they hear this contort themselves into downward facing dog. The goal here is not to "transmit" information to your scene partner (e.g. I am playing baseball) but just to stumble into some choice that you, yourself made. Human here means that your shape should be the shape we find a person when no one is looking. 

Eyes

Make eye contact with your scene partner. This cannot be overstated. Until the final step (Information), this eye contact should not be broken. More often than not, when a player breaks eye contact I can see in that moment that they feel like they've figured out what the scene is. They've got the plot down. So they disconnect. The eyes go out to the crowd or up. But I promise you the flow of information to and from your scene partner is still at paramount importance. It is very difficult to be planning ahead when staring into your partner's eyes. 

When the eye contact is established, the lights come up!

Tension

Things just keep getting harder don't they? Now I push you to take all of those ideas that are storming your mind and let them flow back out. Your instinct is to think, "she is sitting and looks angry, I bet we're kids and I broke her toys." But I will push you to react physically. If she looks angry, perhaps you back slowly away. Perhaps you close your posture. Your unbroken eye contact will ensure she reacts immediately, perhaps easing closer and closer attempting to open you back up. Throughout all of this we are delaying as far as possible labeling anything. We are just reacting to what is happening right in front of us as dramatic tension builds.

[Discover]

I put discover in quotes because a) it does not fit in the acronym and b) it really is not very distinct from the following step. But I will separate it here for clarity. 

At some point, the tension gets so high that it boils over and you discover the first line of dialog when one of you cannot help but speak. You will feel the difference between this and your typical improv initiation. Compared to

"Can I get a suggestion?"
"Flask"
"Flask, thank you"
(internally) "Hmm, flask makes me think of the town drunk, so I'll say"
"Hey, you better not be drinking whiskey in the street, Hank!"

Ugh, all that thinking all that work. In this model we take all of this natural behavior, our built-in reactions to body language and facial expressions and as it happens we begin to build a picture in our head. In the previous example let's say you chose to back away slowly and your scene partner inched ever closer, her angry look turning more and more psychotic. Your arms now open wide as you back up faster and faster until you hit the side wall. You feel protective of something certainly. Just as she is inches from your face you yell, "You can't have her!"

No work, no thinking. Just makes sense. And already by the first line of dialog there is so much happening.

Information

In a lot of improv, someone comes out with an idea, and we give them space to get that idea out. In this worldview, no one has an idea. We do not sit idly back and assume someone else will do the work. From the first line on we add information in every line. This is harder than it sounds. This is beyond yes and. This is not resting, not repeating what we know, but building the momentum of the scene at breakneck speed (also tends to lead to action):

A: "You can't have her!"
B: "You are not powerful enough to stop me!"
A: "I am willing to sacrifice more" (mimes a blade, at her own neck)
B: (backing now away) "You can't. You won't. Neither of us would survive."
A: "I never wanted it to end this way. But you forced this on us, Gwyneth! You did this to us!"

I just made that up as I wrote it. Not quite the same as being on stage but you get the idea. See how every single line, new information is added. The second line, it may be our instinct for B to say "Yes I can!" or "Give her to me now!" but that doesn't really tell our partner or the audience any new information. We know B wants her and A doesn't what B to have her.

This also happens to be an incredibly high energy scene. In TJ and Dave terms (as I understand them), it has high heat and heavy weight. It does not have to be that way. That was just the scene I made up writing this post.

Here's another example:

Change Machine at the Pittsburgh Comedy Festival on 8/23/2014

I really love this stuff. The more people ask good and interesting questions, the more I refine my own understanding of it. If you're interested in learning more, let me know!

• Romeo and Juliet fall in love
• The Prince says Romeo can't hang around. 
• Romeo is all like, "but I love Juliet"
• The Prince is like, "Oh man that sucks."
• Juliet maybe is like "Guys, if you don't figure this out, I am gonna...kill myself!" 
• Romeo steps in like, "Yo J, don't kill yourself I love you too much."
• Juliet is like: "I don't know maybe I should. But Romeo does love me..."

And on and on. Not as compelling as the original is it? What's the problem? We never get to the point where DRAMA transpires and people are able to emote about it.

I think a lot of improvisers are afraid of action. They are afraid to make bold moves, to offset the course of a scene or show in progress. They are afraid to drink that poison and leave their scene partners to deal with the consequences. 

But we go to the theater and to movies to watch people deal with the consequences of their dead lovers! Not to watch them debate whether or not to drink the poison (notice I didn't pick Hamlet).

The more I coach teams to move toward action, the more I see truly incredible and surprising moves. Often their teammates are surprised but once we move past the initial surprise we get into such rich and deep scenes where we deal with the fallout  rather than swimming in the muck of indecision.

CAVEATS:

• I am not promoting unmotivated "invented" action. If we're at your family reunion and you stand up and start throwing baseballs at your Aunt June, that doesn't make any sense and confuses everyone. If we're at your family reunion and the scene has been about how your childhood was taken away by your Aunt June, who made you work in her store since you were 4 and you never got to do anything normal kids do. Then your biological father shows up with a bag of baseballs in tow to make up for lost time, and you stand up and start throwing them at your Aunt June, bravo!
• This sounds like the old improv adage: Show Don't Tell. I support that thinking, and they are related. But to me, this is a shade different. Show Don't Tell means rather than talking about going to the store, just go to the store. Going to the store may not be that big a move though. It may just be something we were talking about. I am particularly advocating that you make bold choices that we are afraid of specifically because they could potentially change (or deepen) the course of the piece. 

My pace of improvisation epiphanies has been similar, but recently they are at least trending in the same direction. At the core of this is a solidifying understanding of what sort of work–to use Susan Messing's nomenclature–gets me off. I'm going to attempt to put into words what improv I strive for these days.

Improvisational theater is an art form that is capable of doing something that no scripted performance art can: it allows 2 (or more) performers to enter a blank stage with blank minds. Neither they, nor the audience, have any idea what the scene or show that is about to be performed will be about yet the lights come up and immediately something is happening. Something engaging. Those actors rather than needing to invent a story in the moment can just play the moment. They use an almost monastic level of control to allow their thoughts and ideas of what the scene is and where it is going to come into their head and flow out. And moment to moment, the scene unfolds before them. This allows for unique and beautiful creations that would not be possible in sketch or plays. 

In a YETI workshop (more on this soon) I taught recently at The New Movement in New Orleans, a player began with a strong posture choice–slumped shoulders, legs wide, very masculine. Her scene partner crossed the stage cautiously. I asked her if she felt her partner came too close or stopped too far away and she said, "I felt my character was on a bus, sort of a creepy unsavory dude." This is the default for a lot of improvisers: what is the narrative? The plot of the story. I asked them to replay the scene and focus on just what information was in front of her. Make that great choice but try to hold off on figuring out where she was and who she was and just listen to her scene partner. How was she holding herself? How was she regarding her? To use TJ and Dave's terminology¹, what was the "heat" between them?

With little training, this is something we can all instinctually learn to pick up and react to. And with some training, we can become quite good at it.

And in improvisation, the process is the product. The audience is along for the ride. They watch this with us. They are on the edge of their seats. They discover as we discover and get surprised as we, often genuinely, get surprised.

So, what are the implications of this way of thinking? I will list a few of them here, though I am definitely still exploring this:

• If approaching improv this way, comparing your work to its written counterparts ² (sketch, plays, etc.) is a misguided endeavour. We should study those counterparts in our effort to become better improvisors, though as critics of our work and others', I do not believe we should hold up written work as the standard. It is perhaps more akin to other improvised collaborative art such as improvised jazz.
• This way of viewing improv does not discount the other ways as invalid. I do believe there are some truly funny people (one referenced in this article) who are very talented at more premise-based approaches. Perhaps there should be different names for the two ways of improvising. We currently distinguish between short form and long form improv, and I think maybe this distinction is more important. Maybe call that "Writing on the Spot" or call this "Collaborative Scenework."
• With great power comes great responsibility. With written work, if I want to explore or wander into dangerous/taboo/offensive territory, I can run it by a friend who has more experience than I do with mysogony, abuse, addiction, racism, etc. to ensure that I am handling the issue appropriately and being funny for the right reasons. Even if I am improvising in a premise mode or planning ahead in my mind, I can run a quick broadcast delay. The approach I am describing here relies on the performer to have that responsibility in themselves.

Footnotes:

1. In their new and incredible book, Improvisation at the Speed of Life: The TJ and Dave Book, TJ and Dave define the "heat" and "weight" of a scene. This is an incredible way of looking at opening moments, and the whole book is great too!
2. Matt Besser in an interview with SplitSider: "We always comp are our scenes to sketch comedy because we believe a great improvised scene is something that you can write out and it’s a great sketch."

Press

About 2 months prior to the show, I sent out my first press release. I am about the furthest from a marketing expert, but I was passionate about this show and I had help from the marketing crew at the venue. The first release was focused on the show itself: what was unique and why would an average person be interested in seeing it. I also included some hi-res press photographs.

A month later (still ~1 month out), I sent a follow-up release that was more focused on the (now confirmed) cast, performance dates, ticket prices and info. This had updated photos as well. 

Between these and some contacts I had, particularly in some smaller online publications I got a couple interviews, a ticket giveaway, and a reviewer coming to our first show. The more people began to cover it, I got the show picked up by a few larger publications. We ended up selling out two of the four shows and getting a great house at the other two.

Performances

The performances is where the director is really able to let go of the reigns and trust that the preparation was done now. The show now belongs to your cast and crew. I do give a few notes during the run, but mostly on technical issues that help the show to run more smoothly ("Let's try to have the overlords do the house open announcement since they're in make-up at that time"). It's difficult to make major artistic adjustments during the run. If you do, probably better to call a rehearsal and practice than rely on notes.

Those of you who have done short runs of theater productions will be familiar with the bittersweet ending to such a production. It has taken over your life, and you will be getting a lot of free time. But you have also built something special and unique and made a new family and that is going away. But like all of theater and improv specifically, its ephemeral nature is part of its appeal. 

In parallel to rehearsing with my cast, I began work on the tech aspects of the show. Ideally, I would have had a Technical Director to collaborate with on this, but for this show, that was also me. I did, thankfully, have a wonderful board operator at the theater.

Tech Break-Down

For End of the World, tech consisted of:

• Pre-Recorded Audio and Video: This show had a lot of audio/video components. For me this involved sourcing and compiling this content, and in some cases working with artists to create original material. 
   
• Live Music: Most of the shows had a live synth player adding environmental ambience and underscoring the scenes. We had to find the right place to put her physically in the space, hook her into the board, sound-check and incorporate her into the rehearsal process (for this show, she was just at the tech run through).
   
• Set Design: We did not build any sets, but that did not mean that there was no set design. We had two distinct areas of the stage we wanted to set apart, as well as the live music. We played with where to place them physically, lighting options, and incorporating some furniture.
   
• Costumes, Hair and Makeup: To clearly distinguish the aliens from the humans in the show, we used costumes, hair and make-up. We had a very low budget, so the costumes were gathered from my and the casts' closets, hair services donated by a cast member, and make up done by a generous local face paint artist in exchange for hanging her art work in the lobby. 
   
• Pre- and Post-Show Experience: I wanted the experience to begin from the moment the audience entered the lobby. The conceit was that they themselves were an alien counsel and by the end of the show would vote to save or destroy the human race. Before the house opened, they spent their time transforming themselves into their alien alter-egos using tin foil, pipe cleaners, egg cartons, face paint and costume pieces. The end of the show allowed them to vote to save or destroy using their smartphone and watch the vote live on screen, sharing the results on social media. All of these pieces had to be built and organized.

Creating Media

The concept of this this show seemed essential to explain for the audience to enjoy, but also complicated. The solution I came up with was to present a short video at the top that fit with the pre-show experience. I worked with two incredible animators to create it in an amazingly short amount of time: Spencer Diaz–an Imagineer at Disney Research–and Nico Zevallos–a fine art and robotics student at Carnegie Mellon. The resulting work did a wonderful job of leading into the short scripted introduction:

Introduction animation used in the End of the World Show

They also created two other animations that we played depending on the audience vote at the end of the show.

Cues

The show ran about 90 mins and had about 20 cues in it. That's probably low to normal for a sketch show but high for an improv show. I wanted to make this as easy as possible for the person in the booth (let's call her the Stage Manager), so I programmed all the cues (audio and video) into an amazing and intuitive piece of software called QLab which you can rent for $3 per day. I rented it for the week leading up to the show and the run of the show and it was remarkably affordable for what it does.

With QLab, you can program all of your cues to operate just by hitting the space bar. Cues can play video, put up static images, play audio, do all of those at the same time (which I did frequently), fade sound in and out, time cues to play during other cues and so forth. And it's all pretty easy to set up. Then your tech person will just need to hit the space bar at each cue.

Technical Runs

With all that preparation done, you are ready for your tech run. Ideally you will do (at least) 3 kinds of runs at least once. If time or venue availability is limited, you may need to combine some of these but I don't recommend it:

• Paper Tech: You want to walk through each of the cues with the Stage Manager on "paper." This will be whatever you have for a script. If it is a fully improvised show, this may be more of an outline. But if it is a more ambitious production with technical aspects, you definitely do want to write down clear instructions before the first rehearsal.
   
• Cue-to-Cue: Here is where you involve the actors and any other production folks. You want to be in the venue and use all the actual people who will be doing anything on show night. The goal is to walk through each cue, run a little bit before, run the cue, a little bit after then skip to the next cue. I usually use these to also to rehearse entrances, exits, any devices (edits for example) that we may not have rehearsed in the space, where do we stand when we're not in a scene, etc.?
   
• Dress: This is a full run of the show in costume, make-up, full tech, top to bottom. This should be treated like a performance. It will also give you a sense of timing.

At this point, you should be confident about opening night!

This post is part of a series about creating the End of the World Show. 

We learn a lot of pillars (in TNM lexicon these are weapons and paths but pillars is a simple metaphor). You have a game pillar, a character pillar, an environment pillar. As long as a few of those pillars are supporting your scene (probably two, or one really great one, if you have three BAM), you'll be cooking. So a transaction scene between strangers with strong Points of View and clear game, probably going to be great! Similar with environment. How can we use it as a tool to give us another place to push off from or another source of discovery/contrast?

One of my biggest discoveries of the week was on heightening: STOP DOING IT IN MY HEAD. I learned to stumble into heightening the way I discover at the top of the scene. Go out there, not knowing what the next thing is I'm going to offer, but trust that I get patterns and I get heightening and whatever comes out will be great. This was a revolution for me and led to some of the most joyous moments (mostly me watching them because I struggled with this). But I had a scene in the show on Thursday (often referred to as the blowjob scene) where I did this accidentally. I now hold this up as my ideal of how I want to feel when I'm heightening: on stage, not the back line.

And maybe I should have led with this, but I truly feel like I have 9 new best friends (plus CJ, Amy, Chris and Tami). It's like the closeness I have felt on house teams, playing with the same people for months, doing good shows and bad, great scenes and crappy scenes, I feel all of that with every one of my training camp compatriots that I met 5 days ago. If you are looking to breakthrough your work, and work hard, I can't recommend this enough.

Since we've had some shows under our belts, we've also been watching tape. Each day after lunch we watch the video last night's performance altogether and CJ (one of our instructors). We watch the whole thing together start to finish and he pauses throughout to make quick comments, ask questions, and issue challenges for the afternoon's work.

I also haven't quite gotten my finger on what's different about notes here. Every teacher did a set or two with us, and gave us notes scene-by-scene. But they never seemed to make people feel worse, or choice-coachy. Sometimes they were quick, sometimes more of a discussion (initiated clearly by a question from the teacher), sometimes they would ask the class to chime in to "popcorn" ideas about other moves in a given scenario.

Speaking of popcorn, these classes, like the TNM book (Improv Wins) are full of catchy phrases and useful metaphors. Teaching this way helps boil things down and communicate complex ideas more clearly, and helps us remember them before shows or the next day. Chris says these come to him usually in the moment then get refined over time, but they are useful. 

After each session, we all summarize our take-aways with a word or phrase. Here are some I have found useful so far:

• And like a samurai
• Discover something in every line
• Stumble into emotion
• Always build momentum
• Add depth not details
• Let the walls down. If the walls are up, explain the walls.
• Find something you can take to 7
• Joy Anger Love Seduction Fear
• Contrast over Conflict
• Find a signature move

The Megaphone Marathons are also starting to bring out some great teams. Below is the amazing Austin team, Opposites, featuring our Day 3 instructor Mark.

TNM Intensive runs from 9am-4:30pm Mon-Fri. We go out for lunch and have an optional dinner time activity before coming back for a performance each night. The performances are part of the Megaphone Marathons, with some groups from out of town.

Some day 1 observations:

• It's a long day, mentally and physically. So I may not be as eagerly blogging as I had hoped.
• There's a journaling component, which is great. I always bring a notebook to classes and ep0/usually to rehearsals but this longer format allows short spaces in session to journal.
• A lot of the individual feedback comes from the teaching structure. There is an official lesson, with a rotating cast of teachers each session. But there is always another teaching sitting in the house, watching your work and jotting down lots of notes and data to provide you feedback on your goals for the camp.
• Like tech conferences, much of the best experiences already happen outside of the formal programming. Walking back from dinner I was able to unstick some of what was confusing me about the philosophy presented. I enjoy just talking to improvisers from other cities about their experiences and scenes where they're from. This week will take 10 strangers and turn them into a team, and that's pretty great.
• Scene sprints - using a complicated game clock, every so often we do 10 sprints of :27 second scenes with :03 seconds in between (in pairs throughout the room). This is an energizing, if exhausting way to get a lot of practice with a new idea.

See you tomorrow!