Physical weirdness
Note: This is a reprint of a previous Improv Illusionist newsletter. If you’re not receiving my email newsletter, you can subscribe here and get my “Learning the Improv Illusion” series as a bonus.
Welcome to another issue of the Improv Illusionist Newsletter, a monthly update from me, David Raitt, with a focus on the improv skills of environment, object work, and physicality in character and performance. I’m honoured by your interest.
I’m back from the Robin Hood International Improv Festival. Five days of shows, workshops, and sharing with players from all over the world. Directors “Lloydie” James Lloyd and Liam Webber and Artistic Director Tanine Dunais curated a fantastic series of events that exceeded my learning goals in ways I couldn’t have imagined. Lloydie’s diary of the festival is an interesting read.
The international acts were all fantastic, but equally so were the shows by the locals. The Nottingham improv scene is impressively deep — if you’re in the UK, check it out!
Now, on to the biggest lesson I learned…
Exploring the Bizarre
My brain is on fire.
I thought I’d get much inspiration at the Robin Hood Festival, and I certainly did. But I also got a profound insight into how much I’ve been leaving out of my physical improv. As the saying goes, it’s hard to read the label from inside the bottle — you need help from different perspectives.
The key event for me was a physicality workshop led by Jacintha Damström of Finland. Although I often prefer to work on my weaker skills, I still like to take workshops in physicality to learn new ideas and teaching methods. This time I got much more than that!
Along with improvising, Jacintha is a lifelong-trained circus artist. She soon had the class moving together, dancing and exploring patterns of motion. We then practiced some light acrobatic lifts and carries. It was fun, and not as difficult as it seems. I learned how to position the load correctly over your hips so you can easily hold someone on your back with much stability. Movement and acrobatic tools like these are great for any improviser.
The workshop’s afternoon scene work was the eye opener. Jacintha showed how we can use those tools to create living tableaus — a banquet where the cast plays all the food and drink; a billiard table where they play the balls, knocking around and trying to escape falling in the pockets.
We also learned visual flourishes to transform characters and objects from one thing into another. Imagine waving your hands together like a butterfly, then, with a quick pirouette, you become the butterfly and can inhabit it as a character.
Suddenly, I saw how we can extend these into creative and wonderful improv scenes for an audience. It opens up so many more possibilities.
You can use object work and physicality to create something grounded in one scene:
Then an acid cartoon in the next:
Of course, abstract physicality is nothing new. Dancers, clowns, and acrobats have been doing it forever. And I’ve done many physically weird improv scenes in the past. But those always felt like a fluke — something that emerged from a strange impulse, or reflexively in response to a bizarre audience suggestion.
For whatever reason, it had never occurred to me you could intentionally improvise entire scenes like this. From my limited experience, I felt they would only be watchable as choreographed and well-rehearsed sketches. But an abstract silent scene is just like any other: it’s about relationships, even if the characters are two blobs rolling around on the ground. Improvising to explore that relationship can be just as easy as a talky scene between two office workers.
The grounded and the bizarre can coexist in the same show, even in the same scene. Having an argument with your partner while you’re cooking dinner? Maybe you express the frustration of your characters by simply chopping carrots faster. Or maybe you both transform into the vegetables and have a literal food fight. Which of those sounds more playful? Which sounds like something the audience has never seen before?
My premise as a physical improv teacher has always been that you need excellent technical skills to communicate location and activity. Your object and environment work should be precise and detailed, so the audience can read your actions without you having to explain them.
That hasn’t changed.
The big leap for me is you don’t have to base that precision and detail ONLY in reality. For years, I’ve been saying that good physical skills help you turn the blank stage into a playground. It can also be a Wonderland where logic and physics don’t apply. You still need top-notch tools to show us what that’s like.
Use physical improv for ultra-realism, or the wildest imagery you can think of, or anything in between. It all depends on your mindset and the experience you want to create for yourself and your audience. Be deliberate about the type of scene you want to create, then use your physicality to portray that world.
A lucky bonus for me was the chance to play with this new understanding while I was still at the festival. The next night, Jacintha and I paired up and improvised an 8-minute(!) silent scene that became something like a living Spy vs Spy comic. It felt like 30 seconds, and it was the most freeing and fun experience I’ve had on stage in a very long time.
I’ll still do grounded scene work and teach the widely practical uses for physical improv. But I now have a whole new buffet of options open for me. There’s so much more we can all do with physicality. Jacintha’s message is you don’t have to be a Finnish acrobat to do it!
Takeaways
- Before your show, consider the experience you want to present. What do you want the world(s) of your scenes to be like: realistic, fantastic, or something in-between? Then explore with your team how you can support that vision through your physicality.
- To explore physical weirdness in scenes, you’ll likely need some internal visualization of your environment and how it behaves. This can be difficult for some people. Spend some time researching films to study the unique elements of different visual styles. You can then practice portraying those elements in rehearsal.
- Be open to new experiences. Put work into your best skills AND your weaker ones. (I’d have missed some valuable education by skipping Jacintha’s workshop.) Find people doing different things with improv. Study their work in theatres or online. Seek them out for workshops.
- Check out other modes of theatrical performance. Clown, contact improvisation, and musical improv all have new perspectives to offer, even if you don’t incorporate them into your practice.
What’s your opinion? Is good object work only for grounded, realistic scenes? Is abstract physicality something any improviser can do? Send me your thoughts!
Things to Try
Exercises, scenes, and practices to work out your physical improv skills.
- Silent scenes! Nothing amps up your physicality like performing without dialogue. You can use sound effects and emotional noises, but no words. Think about how the characters express their feelings physically. Scenes like these can be grounded and realistic, or as fantastic as your imagination allows. Warm up your body before playing to avoid injuries.
- Plan your ask-fors. Remember that getting a suggestion from the audience is meant to inspire your scene. If you’re not getting inspiring suggestions, you may need to rethink how you’re asking for them. Plan different types of questions to provoke unusual answers. And remember to use the suggestions creatively, not “on the nose.” (For example, don’t ask people for an activity they’d do in a park, and then start a park scene. Use the idea in a different, unexpected way.)
- Group warmup: Cyborg Fight. I’ve adapted this exercise from Jacintha Damström’s workshop. It’s a super fun warmup to play with physicality. With 3-4 players in a circle, imagine you are all indestructible cyborgs engaged in battle. One at a time, you can morph any part of your body into a weapon to attack your neighbour. Examples: Turn your arm into a machine gun, pull off your hand and throw it as a grenade, slide out a rib or two to use as a sword. Use sound effects too! The more cartoonish and bizarre you can make it, the better. Your “victim” can play receiving the attack, but of course they aren’t damaged permanently, so they can take the next turn. REMEMBER SAFETY! Avoid physically touching anyone, and use slow motion if you’re getting in close so people have time to react and move. Work around the circle, one person attacking their neighbour, who then takes the next turn.
More from Improv Illusionist
The Improv Illusionist book – Preview and order info
Improv Exercises for Physical Skills
Improv Books — Reviews & Recommendations
Improv Podcasts — Reviews & Recommendations
News and Links
Should We Let Students Edit Uncomfortable Scenes?
Interesting opinion piece from Will Hines’ newsletter. He argues we need to teach students how to handle difficult material that comes up in scenes. Good thoughts here on when edits are advisable or not, and how teachers can help students work through tough scenes.
Do you have any feedback about Improv Illusionist? Send me a message or just reply to this email. Seriously, I read everything and respond to nearly all of it as my schedule allows.
Back again on Thursday, November 7th.
Ex nihilo!
— Dave
