My Funny Valentine

When I heard that Carol Burnett was going to be performing live in Sarasota at the same time I'd be there, and on Valentine's Day, it was a no-brainer. I had to get tickets, no matter how much they cost. 

Carol Burnett is my idol. She is the reason I do what I do. She is the reason I sacrificed so much to produce my own sketch comedy shows. Carol made everything better when I was a kid. In my evolution from awkward adolescent to insecure teenager, I laughed all my troubles away each night as my family and I watched her on syndication right after the 10 o'clock news. She put a smile on my face before my head hit the pillow.

I had made pre-show dinner reservations at The Starlite Room, the Sardi's of Sarasota, and less than a 5-minute drive from the venue. Our bill was a little late in arriving, so we panicked slightly when we looked at our watches and realized we only had 10 minutes to pay, hop in the car and find a parking spot.

In the venue's parking lot, there was not a spot to be found. Finally, at the back of the lot, and with the confidence only a dry martini could provide, I found a seemingly impossibly tight one. With the voice of a drill sergeant, I commanded my husband, son and sister to get out of the car so I could pull in.

We ran to the entrance, I in my platform pumps, my sister trailing behind - complaining of her sore knee. "Here's your ticket," I barked, handing it to her as I kept running, like a relay runner passing a baton. My husband stared at me incredulously - he knew Carol Burnett was important to me, but this was a side of me he'd never seen before.

We made it in the nick of time - and heard that they were starting the show late because so many people were having parking issues.

I sat contentedly in our amazing seats in the 13th row (my lucky number) and looked around at the almost full Van Wezel auditorium with its 1741 seats.

On the simple stage lay three Oriental rugs and a modest screen behind them with only the words "Carol Burnett". I took a few moments to breathe and reflect on what was about to happen. This woman who was the reason I did what I did. This woman I worshipped. I was moments away from seeing her step onto that stage.

10 minutes past showtime and people were still filing in. Four prominent seats remained empty in the center - luckily not in our row. If anyone walked past me and blocked my view of Carol - even for a brief moment - they would have hell to pay.

Finally, an announcement was made, and that familiar melody of "I'm so glad we had this time together" began to play. Out she walked in a sequin cardigan and black pencil skirt, with the same great legs she showed all those years ago as Mrs. Wiggins. Those who could, immediately rose to their feet and applauded this living legend.

In that same pleasant familiar tone she used on her TV show, she said, "Let's turn up the lights and see if you all have anything you want to say." Hands went up all over the auditorium, including mine. I had prepared a question, but honestly it was enough to just be in her presence. Just a few feet away.

About 3 or 4 questions were asked and answered before one of the female ushers made eye contact with me and pointed to her microphone. I HAD BEEN SELECTED FOR A QUESTION! Could this really be happening? Maybe it helped that I was wearing red and stood out (it was Valentine's Day, after all). Maybe it was our shared aura. Maybe it was just dumb luck. But the fact was, suddenly she - Carol - pointed to me and called on me.

I began to speak into the powerful mic and heard a slight delay as my voice surrounded the huge auditorium. It helped that I was an actress, improviser and frequent emcee - accustomed to speaking on the spot for large groups. I wasn't at all nervous, just dazed and going with the flow.

The conversation went something like this:

Me: "Carol, first I just wanted to say thank you for all the laughs. You made everything better when I was a kid."
Carol: "Thank you."
Me: "I also wanted to say that you are my inspiration and the reason I do what I do. I write and perform my own sketch comedy show in Switzerland."
Carol: "Switzerland?!"
Me: "Yes, for the English-speaking audiences. And knowing how much sacrifice is involved in a career like that, I just wanted to know - what was the moment that you knew you had to do this, or you would die?"
(murmurs of shock from the crowd)
Carol: "Well, I never thought I would DIE if I didn't do this..."
Me: "Oh. Shit."
(laughter from crowd)
Carol: "I wanted to be a journalist but they didn't have a journalism major at my college so I took a playwriting class. And I performed some of the pieces that I wrote and I knew I was good at it..."

She finished answering the question and went on to someone else. I'm not really sure what happened after that, other than I remember sitting on the edge of my seat, elbows on my knees, smiling. Just smiling. It's been a week now, and I'm still smiling.

Yes, the tickets were expensive. But oh boy, was it worth it. Because the memory will stay with me forever.

Do the thing you've always dreamed of. Seek your inspiration. Find your muse. Thank them. Love them. Because it's you that you're really loving in the process.

Party like it's 2017!

Hey you, (Yeah, YOU! Whoever is reading this...)

Thank you so much for your support and attention in 2016! I was so busy planning my election show and getting involved in pointless political debates on social media that I didn't even blog once. The professional highlight for me was most definitely performing at Kaufleuten, one of Zurich's top venues, and having "50 Shades of (Election) DAY!" filmed by SRF1 with an interview on the nightly news. Watch here:

Photo credit: www.fotofabrik.ch

Impersonating a character, which much of my comedy stems from, is an interesting experience. I not only literally step into the character's shoes, but a process takes over in which I actually feel like I can see the world through that person's eyes. Some may call that channelling, some may call it empathy, some may call it a mental illness...

Photo credit: www.fotofabrik.ch

To give you an example, I played Hillary Clinton so often last year "campaigning" for "50 Shades of (Election) DAY!" - even up until the last show on election night itself - that when the results came in, I too went through a mourning and almost hibernation period like Hillary. But it's a new year, and in line with the improv philosophy, we need to accept, not deny, and build on what we're given.

Photo credit: Masu-Komi

In 2017 I'll be building on some exciting and meaningful projects: I'll be continuing my work as Cause Ambassador for Womens Brain Project (www.womensbrainproject.com), one-on-one improv coaching and corporate workshops, various speaking and emceeing engagements, PLUS an exciting but yet unnamed new comedy project!

My calendar is already filling up for 2017! Contact me for a one-on-one session, workshop or speaking engagement.

Photo credit: www.andaleeblilley.ch

Here's wishing 2017 will be less about which party you're IN, and more about which party you're AT.

Photo credit: www.fotofabrik.ch

Love and peace,

Sylvia (aka Hillary, Donald, Sarah, Cher, Madonna, et al.)

Why aren't more people happy?

Over the years, I have talked to and observed a lot of people on this planet - it's one of my favorite pastimes. And through my talks and observations, I have found that very few people are truly happy. Truly content with themselves or their situation. And I want to know why.

I have talked to people who earn hundreds of thousands of US dollars or Swiss francs per year yet still feel unfulfilled and fearful of the future. I have talked to people who are pursuing their artistic dreams but live in fear of paying next month's rent or saving for retirement. I have talked to people who have reached all their goals and have ended up having mental breakdowns or even taken their own life. I have talked to people who have never known real tragedy, yet are depressed.

So what's wrong?

What all these people have in common is this: FEAR. We all fear something. Fear of the unknown is one of the biggest fears that exists. And after all, what is "saving for retirement" other than a way of eliminating fear of the unknown? The future is always unknown, therefore we fear the future.

Two of the biggest money-making industries are banking and insurance - and are both built around the clients' fear. We invest and safeguard our money in banks for FEAR of losing it. For fear of not having enough. We pay huge premiums on all kinds of insurance for any kind of scenario, most of which end up never happening, for FEAR that it might. We pay a lot of money for peace of mind. And somehow, as in the real examples of the people I've talked to, it's still not enough. They are still unfulfilled.

As long as we chase money, we are chasing numbers. And we all know that numbers are infinite. Which means the money figures will never be enough. They will never be big enough. We will never have all the money in the world. Chasing money is like a dog chasing its tail. What we are really chasing is peace of mind - in other words, happiness. So how do we find it?

And what does this have to do with improv? Improv is all about losing your fear and letting go. And the way you do that is the same way you find happiness: you do it by focusing on the moment. You do it by not dwelling on the past or worrying about the future. As an improv performer, you do it by not worrying or fearing what brilliantly witty thing you will or won't say in the next scene.

Recently I had the honor and pleasure of studying with Upright Citizens Brigade in New York City, one of the nation's top improv schools. On the last weekend of the intensive week-long course, we had a student performance at the theater in the East Village. In a group of 16, we were allowed to perform in two scenes, and had to initiate one. Having initiated an early scene already, a moment came where no one stepped forward. I had already initiated, so I held back and waited for someone else. No one stepped forward. An awkward silence filled the theater. This is going on for too long, I thought. Someone needs to step forward and start a scene. I knew why the others were hesitating - nothing "funny" came to mind. Practice what you always preach, I said to myself! So I jumped forward, not having any clue what I was going to do. I grabbed a chair, and immediately another actress came forward and joined me with her chair. Still not having any idea of where we were going, I mimed banging on the door separating us and said, "Excuse me, do you have any toilet paper?" What happened after that turned out to be a scene that our teacher described as "genius". And it all happened from trusting in the unknown, trusting in the self.

It's no coincidence that people in improv classes and workshops often remark on how "happy" they feel. They forget their troubles, they focus, they stay in the moment. They trust in the unknown.

Step forward in life, even if you don't know what's going to happen next. And create your own genius scene!

Do Something!

The great Mick Napier wrote a wonderful book called "Improvise. Scene from the Inside Out" in which he writes, "For God's sake, do something. Anything. Something. At the top of an improv scene, do something. Please, do it for yourself. Do yourself a favor and just do something."

I think of this often. Not just at the top of an improv scene, but when I'm feeling generally stuck. Stuck to create, stuck to get out of bed, stuck to get motivated. I hear Mick's voice in my head saying, "Do something! Anything."

This planet is always moving. That's why we get so frustrated when we're stuck in line, or in traffic, or in our life. Forward movement is the natural flow of life.

Sure, there are times when we like to wallow in self-pity, or bask in the afterglow of a great occasion, and that's fine - but know that it has a time and a place. Too much looking back (and in the case of improv that usually means fretting over the funnier thing you could have said and done instead) leaves you feeling stuck, paralyzed and will bring on more self-loathing. It keeps you from moving forward.

Too much looking ahead can be just as debilitating. Have you ever noticed how the thought of doing something you dread or fear is much worse than actually doing it? It usually lasts longer, too. Try and remember that the next time you're faced with a stack of unfiled papers, complicated tax forms or never-ending laundry. Click "ignore" to the enemy thought that's telling you how hard, or awful, or boring it's going to be - and just do it.

Do something. Because if you don't, the chance might be gone forever. And it could have been something really great.

(Except perhaps laundry.)

How to Seduce Your Improv Partner

Good! I thought the title might get you this far.

Of course, when I say "seduce" I don't mean "seduce seduce". But improv is a kind of seduction in that it usually starts off with two people alone on a stage, not knowing what the hell is about to happen. One person has an idea or impulse and acts on it, seductively offering a line or an action. The partner follows, offering his or her own touch or twist to the mix. Sometimes you don't even need to say anything. It can be communicated in the eyes or with the body. True stage partners will follow each other's lead. There is no boss. There should be no power play. There is no room for control freaks on an improv stage. It's a side by side, equal partnership. There is complete and total trust. There is give and take. No one walking 10 paces ahead, no one walking 10 paces behind. You should be aware of each other at all times. Listening, focusing, almost anticipating your partner's next move in a perfect flow. In those moments neither one of you has any idea where it will go or end up, but that's part of the thrill. The difference is that you have an audience watching, sharing in that thrill.

Follow. Keep going. Move forward. See where it takes you. But if you're terrified? If you feel out of control? Sure, you can leave the stage, you can change the subject, you can break all the improv rules like denying, blocking, negating…but good improvisers will know that doing any of those things will stop the flow and ultimately destroy what could have been a great scene.

Sound like a relationship? It should. Improv is a relationship. A bare, raw relationship between actors on a stage. Improv is about working as a team, giving and taking in balance towards a shared goal: entertaining the audience, and yourselves, for just a moment in time. And when it's right, there's only one other thing in the world that feels as good.

In the moment

One of the keys to a successful improv scene is to be in the moment, to be present, and stop thinking. In life we know that enjoying the moment is something we should all do more of, but it is easier said than done. How does one stay in the moment? How does one truly enjoy each moment? And what is a moment? Is it a nano-second? Is it today? Is it this year? Is it this era? We only seem to truly appreciate moments when they are past, when we see moments in photographs, when we laugh and reminisce with others over fond memories. We can enjoy the past. We can look forward to the future. But how do we enjoy the present?

One of the problems, I think, is that we measure our lives in terms of years. On New Year's Eve, as I write this, it is more evident than ever by the Facebook posts coming through the newsfeed. People muse about what the new year will bring. People either reflect on the fulfilled year they had, or breathe a sigh of relief that this particular year is over.  But was every day in the year all good or all bad? Why let the calendar decide?

To be in the moment, try this: instead of measuring your life in terms of years, treat each new day as a chance to make a positive change. You can be pretty sure the sun will rise, and the sun will set. How many other things in life can we be that sure of? Nature gives us a chance to be hopeful with each new day. 

Tomorrow morning, and each morning when you wake up, make a New Day Resolution. Stay focused on that all day long. And that's how you stay in the moment.

All I Want for Christmas

An improv show is one of the easiest kinds of productions to put on because all you really need is a stage, a couple of willing, able actors, and an audience.

There is no set as such. I always tell my actors to create their set as they enter a scene. In other words, let the audience see where you are - if you're in a kitchen, start cooking or opening drawers or something. If you're in a bathroom, make yourself up in front of the mirror. And so on.

All I require is that the stage have two chairs Upstage Center. "Use these chairs if you need them," I say. If your scene finds you in a restaurant, or a car, or in a job interview, they could come in handy.

Today is December 26, and I am tidying up the stuff around the home. It overwhelms me. It never seems to end. We humans accumulate more and more. And nowhere is this more evident than at Christmastime, when we stress ourselves by giving and receiving the token gift.

This Christmas, it struck me more than in other years, that I do not get excited about "stuff". The best scenes in life are like good improv. You don't need a lavish set, costumes and all the "stuff". What makes a great improv scene is the content. The funny. The hidden meaning. The unknown ending. Not too different from life.

This Christmas I want to say to my friends and family, please don't give me "stuff". I don't need more stuff. Stuff collects dust, and will only stay behind after I'm gone, leaving someone else a lot of work to go through.

Give me you. Give me your original lines, your funny, your ear to listen, your observations to inspire and motivate me and keep me going. Give me memories to make me laugh and smile and want to see you again and again. Give me you. And two chairs.

Improv for Pessimists

Every once in a while, you have to deal with people that go against everything that improv teaches. Inspired by those folks, I give you…Improv Rules for Pessimists.

1. Yes, but

Pessimists pretend to agree with an idea by saying yes, however this is often followed by an immediate argument as to why something won't work. "Yes, but…"

2. No, and

Pessimists love to say no. In fact, they can go on for hours on end about why something won't work and love to provide more reasons to defend their argument. "No, and…"

3. Take and take

And take, and take, and take… Rather than the fair, balanced and optimistic "give and take", pessimists prefer to take, consume as much as they can, and expect more. In fact, if you were stupid enough to give something away for free, why shouldn't people expect it to continue?

4. Don't be aware of anyone around you

You are the center of the universe. Everyone loves to hear you talk, so keep talking. It makes no difference to YOU if your message is getting through. What matters is that you are center stage. Not listening, watching and concentrating are excellent ways to miss what's going on and learn more about life.

5. Block/Deny/Negate

 At all costs, do not move a scene - or your life - forward. Shut out new ideas, deny reality and use negative language whenever possible. You will be sure to repel people and make them look elsewhere for their needs.

6. Tell, don't show

Saying "I love you", "I'm sorry", "Thank you" and "How are you?" with absolutely no feeling behind it is enough. Gestures do not count. Words speak louder than action. Especially when you're doing all the talking and don't care if the message is getting through anyway (see Rule #4).

7. Work to the bottom of your intelligence

Life is not serious, so don't you be either. Mock people, ridicule them and use sarcasm whenever possible. Taking people seriously only makes them think they matter, and who wants to make people feel good when your life sucks?

8. Don't commit

Why commit? There could be a better offer just around the corner. Keep people guessing so everyone around you becomes insecure. This is sure to create a negative spiral, which pessimists love to start.

9. Don't trust

If it can go wrong, it will. Everyone is out to get you. If you keep this attitude up, you are sure to look (and feel) nervous or worried both on stage and off.

10. Don't make strong statements

Making strong statements only makes you seem confident and interesting. You have nothing interesting to add, so throw everything back to the other person. This is sure to create an unbalanced take-and-take banter.

Deadlines

I'm going to start by talking about endings. Those darn endings. The hardest thing to write - whether it's a play, film, novel or improv scene. "I didn't like the ending," people will argue. "I wanted a happier ending." And then there are those who love the open endings. That makes it "our" ending that we can write in our own heads. Because believe it or not, we are all writers - of our own life. Life is the greatest story of all - because it's the only one that will keep you guessing until the very end.

Improv is instant writing. It's just writing without tools. That is to say, the only tools are your voice, face and body. So finding an ending for an improv scene is just as challenging as finding one for a written story. Except the deadline is a lot tighter. Your audience is waiting right there. "Come on! Make us laugh! Satisfy us with a decent ending, wouldja? And don't make us lose interest while we're waiting!"

One of my favorite improv games is called "First Line, Last Line". In it we ask the audience to write down random phrases/quotes/lyrics on pieces of paper which we later draw out of a bucket. Two actors perform the scene, each reading out their respective line. They then must begin and end the scene with whatever is on those pieces of paper. The audience loves it because they are involved, and most of all because they don't really think we can make it work. But we always do. Point A to Point B. Birth to Death. We fill in the parts in the middle. We don't know how we're going to do it, and it's often not how we planned, but we all get to some ending.

Creativity, like emotions, doesn't like deadlines. As a former advertising copywriter, I know this only too well. You can try to create, and it will be fine, perhaps even good, but it won't be phenomenal. The best creativity outpouring comes when it comes. I don't know where it comes from. But I do know that you can't force it. It doesn't have to come from sitting down at the computer and staring at a blank screen. It can come from doing the dishes, or waiting for a tram, or in the middle of a seemingly trivial conversation. It doesn't like to be told "when" or "where" or even "how". IT finds US. It talks to us. But you have to be aware. You have to follow the improv rule of "Listen, Watch and Concentrate". Some call it the still, small voice. Some call it intuition. Whatever you call it, make sure you have it turned on high when you want to create.

And most of all, give it time. Don't give it a deadline. It takes as long as it takes.

Change Chairs

"Change Chairs" is a warm-up we play in our improv group. It's a fun ice-breaker, it trains you to think quickly and creatively, and it gets the blood pumping. The rules are simple: Chairs are arranged in a circle, with one chair too few. One person is left standing in the middle, and has to spontaneously come up with a reason to change chairs. For example, "Change chairs if you skipped breakfast today..." and so on. If you're left standing in the middle, you need to immediately come up with another reason to change chairs.

I just got back from the funeral service of a theater colleague whom I greatly admired and respected. I'm so glad I often had the chance to tell him what a talented actor I thought he was. "Oh, you're very kind..." he would say in his gentle, humble manner, as he patted my hand.

As I sat with the other mourners that I knew, among them my husband, my friends, people I'd been on stage with, people I'd been directed by, all of us listening to the moving eulogy by yet another theater friend, listening to the beauty of a Shakespeare sonnet read out by the eldest son of the deceased, I couldn't help but feel the closeness and the bond that we all shared - not just with the deceased, but with the theater. We all share(d) a love of theater. But today we were brought together by grief.

And as I looked around the church I thought, the positions have changed again. There's one chair too few. There will always be one chair too few. It's up to the rest of us who still have a chair to keep the game in play. To keep coming up with new ideas. Until it changes again. 

So many of us are afraid of change, but we will always adapt. We'll just rearrange ourselves again. In another circle of chairs.

"Change chairs if you were born..."

No words

What do comics and comedians do when a tragedy that affects so many occurs, if a comedian's drive is to constantly amuse, entertain, make others laugh? I, who always try to find humor in everything, found it disrespectful and inappropriate to post anything jovial, trivial or amusing in the days following the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School.

Yet, life goes on. It has to. No matter how much we want to respect the dead, the mourners, we have to go on. It's just the nature of life.

Does this have anything to do with improv? Believe it or not, it does. The mere fact of moving forward, moving a scene along, is how we cope with anything and everything.

That's it, really.

Beginnings and endings

In the beginning...there were no pencils, or typewriters, or laptops, or iPads... But there were stories. Always stories. And where there are stories, there are storytellers.

We are all, in a sense, the writers of our own life stories - and writing stories on the spot is exactly what we do in improv. I think of the improv audience a little bit like the universe. They are the unknown element each night, throwing things at us, seeing how we cope. Some are kind, some want to challenge us. We have two choices: we can clam up in fear and produce crap results, or we can focus on the present moment, go with the flow and create something amazing.

Someone in my troupe recently asked me how a scene should begin. There are a couple of tricks you can use to start an improv scene. For example, you can start in the middle of a sentence or thought with a word like "and" or "but". Some of the most interesting scenes have no real beginning and end. Why do you think that is? I think it's because that's how life works. We like to think life has a tidy beginning and end, with perfectly choreographed pit stops along the way. When that (inevitably) doesn't happen, we get bummed out, depressed, confused. But it's often the road blocks, the small moments along the way that make us stop and watch, listen, concentrate.

Another way to begin a scene is just to start doing something physical. Even if you don't know what you're doing, something will come to you. This planet is always moving, which is why we get so impatient when we're stuck in a line, or in traffic, or in a personal situation. It's natural for us to want to keep moving, keep going forward, move the scene along. So move! And the rest will come.

Another question I get asked often is, "How do we end a scene"? Again, too often we think life is linear. We are born, we live, we die. Somewhere in my mind I tell myself a perfect life span is 0 to 100. I don't know where we go next, but what I do know is, really old people look and act a lot like newborn babies, so there must be something circular and cyclical about it all. Like beginnings, we think that scene endings have to be neat and tidy, with a logical conclusion. Not necessarily so! A scene can end with a great punchline, a crazy twist, or an "uh-oh" moment and still leave the audience satisfied and entertained. If you don't have a lighting person to end your improv scenes, as in our case, it is often the audience (aka The Universe) who decides when a scene is over by their unanimous, spontaneous reaction through laughter or applause, or both. When you know, you know.

And what's so important about the ending anyway? Isn't it the "during" that counts? Do you think it would make you happier, more content, more at peace, knowing that your life will end well? What does that mean anyway - that you know you've achieved all your goals and dreams? Seems to me that's the time when you want to hold on, savour, enjoy. Ancient sages have told us the same thing in different languages and words: the journey is the destination. In improv, it's pretty much the same.

Rules of Improv - for Politicians

There are 8 Rules of Improv. Well actually some troupes say there are 10, some say 12...the point is, as in life, the rules kind of blend into each other over time and space. In this post I'll share the top 10 rules that I've learned and try to practice on my journey. And then I'll explain how our presidential candidates and politicians in general could benefit from them in time for Election 2012.

1. Don't try to be funny.

My troupe often says, "But it's comedy! We're supposed to be funny." That's correct. But the emphasis here is on the word "try". Don't TRY to be funny. If you try, you will appear as if you're trying, and you will not get a genuine laugh, you might get silence, or worse - the dreaded courtesy laugh.

Likewise, politicians: leave the jokes to the comedians.  It's not natural when you try to be funny, really. Do not attempt comedy at the podium unless you have a strong background in on-camera acting, like Ronald Reagan or Al Franken. But if you do need some joke writers, I'm freelance...I work around the clock...I love to travel...just sayin'...

2. "Yes, and..."

If you say yes, add information. But politicians take note: make sure you answer the question first, please. Say "Yes" if you mean yes! Then continue your thought.

3. "No, but..."

If you say no, continue that thought.

Politicians: "No comment" does not suffice. That cuts the conversation off, and it's pretty much a confirmation that you're guilty of whatever it was you were just asked. We realize it might be none of our business, but human beings are nosy - we want to know more.

A better reply would be, "That's not relevant now, but I'd be happy to discuss Internet porn with you over a drink sometime, off the record, just guys (wink wink)..." At least we'd know you were being honest.

4. Give and take

In improv, it's about balance of communication. Basically, if you find that you are doing all or most of the talking, shut the "*ç% up. Let the other guy have a chance to say something once in a while.

Politicians: this rule is NOT about giving to the rich/poor and taking from the poor/rich. Nice try.

5. Don't block or negate.

This immediately cuts off any communication.  Can we talk about political debates? Oh boy... What and how are you guys (and gal) actually communicating here? Do I have to give you a Blackout or yell "Scene!"? When you guys start negating, blocking or denying, the audience gets nervous for you, and if they're nervous, you're bombing.

6. Listen, watch and concentrate.

Don't be so self-absorbed (I know, I know, but I have to say it) that you are unaware of what's going on around you. Always be present, in the moment, aware of everything. Don't expect the First Lady or Vice President to do this for you. We the people will notice.

7. Make statements

Asking questions too often in a scene puts pressure on your scene partner and is, frankly, a cop-out. 

Politicians: don't ask questions in a debate - we know you're just trying to take the awkwardness off yourself and make the other guy nervous. It's wimpy. We see through it.

8. Work to the top of your intelligence (don't use blue humor to get a laugh)

Most of us in improv have been guilty of resorting to middle school humor at one time or another. When nervous, throwing out a word like "penis" or "boobs" may get an immediate shock laugh and allows you an extra moment to think about what you'll do next.  But it's cheap. You can do better than that.

Politicians: try not to discuss, offer or photograph your genitalia while in the public eye. You should basically work on keeping your minds out of your pants. Or anyone else's pants. (I know, I know, I just thought I should tell them.)

9. Don't think too much.

Thinking too much prevents you from being in the moment and reacting to what is actually going on.

Politicians: let your staff do this for you. You were not elected to think. You were elected to look friendly, give us confidence, and make other nations think there are actually some non-obese Americans out there. (When will America have its first Fat President?)

10. Follow the follower

Yes, you heard me. Follow the follower, not the leader. In a 2-person improv scene, there should be no leader. It should be equal. It should be balanced. You never know where it will take you. And when you go into it with that attitude, that's when you find the beauty, and the magic will just happen.

Politicians: hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! This one might need some practice. But hey, that's what keeps improv coaches in business.

Where accepting can lead you...

In improv we move the scene along by accepting and adding information, better known as the "Yes, and" rule. To put it into practice, here's my version of how Tom and Katie's relationship would look in an improv scene, following the "Yes, and" rule.


TOM: "Hi, I'm very rich, very famous, and very much in need of an image make-over."

KATIE: "Yes, and I'm young, naive, and very much in need of an image make-over."

TOM: "Yes, and I've been meaning to talk to you about those J. Crew and Gap outfits you wear on the red carpet."

KATIE: "Yes, and I'd be happy to wear Armani Privé if you hand over your credit cards."

TOM: "Yes, and in return you'll have to give birth to L. Ron Hubbard's frozen sperm child, say it's mine, and turn down all movie roles that challenge and fulfill you as an actress."

KATIE: "Yes, and can I have my own fashion label?"

TOM: "Yes, and only if you tell every major magazine how wonderfully I treat you and feign interest in Conor and Bella's school sporting events within our first year of dating."

KATIE: "Yes, and I want you to tell the world what an amazing woman I am, while jumping on a large and inappropriate piece of furniture."

TOM: "Yes, and I know just the person who'll let me do it - Oprah! She loves me."

KATIE: "Yes, and make sure you offend a major talk show host too, like Matt Lauer, so everyone thinks you've gone totally nuts because of me."

TOM: "Yes! And lots of PDAs, so people know I'm not...well not that I'm not...I mean, so people think I'm, you know..."

KATIE: (giggling) "Yes, and I promise to always wear flat shoes  - unless I'm out with Posh Spice..."

TOM: "Yes! YES!!! And I'll give you a fairytale wedding in Italy, and we'll live happily ever after...with my mother!"

(pause)

KATIE: "Yes. (ahem) And... 5 years, max."

(Blackout.)

Because it was there...

This evening a few improv colleagues and I performed at a farewell cocktail party for a large Swiss bank. In the after-schmoozing, we were telling people, as we always do, that "life is an improvisation".  Yes, yes, those of us who do improv regularly know that, but for improv virgins, this is a new and startling concept. It's always gratifying for me when it dawns on them that we all go through life improvising what we say, do, and how we react.

But it's more than that. For example, I'm sitting at the computer in my dining room-cum-office-cum-storage room (I still giggle when I write that word, even though in this case it's Latin). I get up to grab something, and on my way I step on a height measuring stick that belongs to my 5-year-old son. I grab what I need, walk back, step on the stick again, sit back down at my computer, and take another sip of my beer.

Now, you might be wondering what is so remarkable about this that she chose to write about it? What is remarkable is that, as an improviser, I didn't even think to move the stick. I didn't get upset that it was there, because I was focused on my immediate goal, and I just figured my 5-year-old put it there while he was playing and then ran off to do something else. Because that's what 5-year-olds do.

Do you get this, people? I stepped on the height measuring stick without complaining, without even flinching. Because we just got bunk beds today. Because stuff is in disarray around here. Because I can't be bothered right now to find the measuring stick to measure the height measuring stick with which to re-hang it because the bunk beds are now in the way of the old nail that was once hanging the height measuring stick which is now on the floor.

My point is, I stepped on it, because it was there - and everything was fine.

That's improv.

Coming soon!