A simple blog

TEDx

As most of you probably know by now, I gave a TEDx Talk a couple of months ago and the video is now available to watch on YouTube. The talk is called The Way of Improvisation. It’s about using the skills found in improvisation in your everyday life. I’m proud of this talk, and if you haven’t seen it, you should watch it, and if you have watched it, please share it with your friends.

In response to the unusually high amount of feedback I’ve been getting about my talk, all I really have to say is thank you all very much. I appreciate every comment, “like”, and share you’ve given me on the interwebs. My talk was aimed at reaching, and teaching, non-improvisers about how useful the skills of improvisation can be, and I feel I’ve done that thanks to you and your support.

Keep sharing the good word of improvisation.

Thank you.

§290 · January 10, 2012 · Announcement, Improv · 1 comment · Tags: , , ,


Last week I was at The 2011 Seattle International Festival of Improvisation hosted by Unexpected Productions. Overall the festival was an incredible experience, as is any week surrounded by improvisers from around the world, but last week was extra special. We studied, and discovered in ourselves, the Fool.

The Fool is an archetype found in almost every culture, and like all archetypes if you meet him in his pure form he will destroy you, so we looked at the fool through ourselves as improvisers. The result was amazing. The Fool is the only one who can tell the king the truth and not get beheaded. The Fool has no agenda, but instead tells the truth to whoever needs to hear it. The Fool is not full of folly but of a wisdom so great that only the unwise will call it folly. We discovered that improvisers can and should be today’s Fools. We didn’t just focus on playing the Fool on stage, but on how to fill ourselves with the energy of the Fool, and how to simply recognize when the Fool is in the room.

I know. It was pretty deep. I’ll get into this in more detail in the coming weeks I’m sure.

The festival is an ensemble festival, so the focus wasn’t performing, but learning. It was made up of the most passionate and inspired improvisers from around the world; 8 countries were represented. We improvised in English mostly, but there was German and Spanish being spoken, as well as Japanese and even Slovenian. A truly international ensemble, and I was proud to be representing Canada among such amazing improvisers. It’s trips like these that make me not only want to be better myself, but to help others get better as well, so I can be surrounded by such awesomeness all the time.

Of all of the people at the festival, working with Randy Dixon, the artistic director of Unexpected Productions, was the biggest honour. As far as improvises and teachers go, he’s top notch. I learn more working with Randy for two days then working on my own for two years. I learn more from the one liners he delivers out of the side of his mouth as a joke, then I do in an entire workshop with any other instructor. He truly is an improviser’s improviser, and an instructor’s instructor. If you get the chance to work with Randy, take it.

Anyway, I took home many life-long lessons from the festival. I’m sure most of them will make their way onto this blog in one way or another, so I won’t get into details now or I’ll have nothing to write about later. But the most important concept I took home with me, was the notion of making improvisation relevant again. The beauty of improvised theatre is that you can see something on the news that morning and put it on stage that night. Almost every long running improv company began creating theatre that address the issues of their time, they weren’t just acting like idiots and making people laugh. Improv is losing touch with its roots. It’s rarely considered political or satirical nowadays. It’s become a joke. So, I have a new goal in improv. To try and make it relevant again. To try and make it worth more then a couple of laughs. To re-introduce improvisation to the fool it once knew.

 ¶ 

§145 · June 25, 2011 · Improv, Reviews · 2 comments · Tags: , , ,


The last five days I have been ill. And I mean ill. Not sick or under the weather, but ill. As in suffering from an illness. Dizziness, nausea, headaches, stomach aches, aching joints, aching back, aching everything, not to mention a few other symptoms that would be a little less then tasteful to describe here. The doctor told me I had picked up a “germ” and would have to let it run it’s course. Well, it’s still running said course, maybe a little slower, but it definitely hasn’t stopped. Let’s say I’m feeling almost better.

While spending the better part of a week in bed I did the following: watched movies, played video games, watched more movies, played more video games, and of course got some work done. That’s right, I had some work to do. Even though I couldn’t leave my house and had trouble standing, I worked. I prepared for my level 1 class that’s starting this weekend, ran a rehearsal (in my living room), and finished a few other shop keeping type stuff. I know, lame. But what can I do? And this brings me to the purpose of this post: when you’re a one-man (or woman) operation, you don’t get sick days, and if you can’t make it to work, no one can cover for you. So what do you do?

I think this is an issue amongst artists more then other types of professionals (I’m sure other one-person operations have to deal with this too, but hear me out). Artists sell themselves, or their art. Not just any product or service, but a very intimate product or service. If the artist can’t be there for their show, well then, it’s not their show anymore is it. And it’s not easy to cancel an event, because people have bought tickets, flyers have been made, sets have been built, and of course the chorus of cliches chanting “The show must go on!”

Does this mean we can’t get sick? Does this mean all performers should take daily doses of echinacea and Emergen-C? It wouldn’t hurt, but it wouldn’t necessarily help. People get sick. Sicknesses get people. Prevention only takes you so far, however, I think preparation can take you the rest of the way.

I don’t have employees, I don’t want employees. Too much work. And I don’t have any partners, they’re too hard to find. So I can’t just prepare my co-workers to cover for me. So, what do I have? Colleagues. People within my profession (be it improv, or poetry) who I am on good terms with. We’ve worked together. We’ve worked with each other (not for each other) often enough that if one of us got sick, the other could (and would) step in and fill their need. It’s not that they would do my show, but they’d do at least a similar show, or workshop, or talk, or whatever that would meet the need of my audience.

It’s in these moments of sickness, or tragedy, that a community can really come together and cover for each other. Maybe my simple flu wasn’t one of those occasions, but it does make you think. What if it was worse and I couldn’t make my class on Sunday? What if I had to miss a show? Do I have someone to cover for me? Of course I do. Because I’m part of a community.

Building a community, and forming relationships with your colleagues and others in your field of expertise is the only solution I see to this problem. I’m not going to cancel a gig because of the flu or some stupid cold. This sickness might have beaten me, but I’m part of a community of artists, part of something larger, and together we’re immune to any illness.

§42 · May 10, 2011 · Improv, Poetry · (No comments) · Tags: , ,